“The innumerable ancestors who merge within me.”
– Jorge Luis Borges
a helix of familiarity resonates
about our set jaws, dark hooded lids
of inner-lit eyes, wild broad smiles
we grant an ironic twist
an awkward gait
the smell of overtired children
random chemistry exchange
and varied ocean voyage
perforate the here and now
complex into present
allow nuance of empathic logic
awestruck admiration
in the long-haul chain of relativity
tears well-up and lonely nights
hover in suburban structures
emptied of rhythmic stories
or crocheted doilies
these emoticonic moments seem situational
grey roots and receding hairlines
eye colors and surges of venomous rage
translate from another layout
differing and deferring
as the landscape warrants
pooling and seeping into our children
