Biting the Towel

"Biting the Towel"

Grinding teeth becomes sandpaper

ripping the surface from the tops of piano keys.

Dissonant in nature, but in music

dissonance is beauty.

Cold blooded dogs slithering down

the back alleys of a city abandoned by the righteous.

Fangs suspended in air with foam and fear

understate the ribs and the fur that shines.

I remember when I’m in front of my mirror,

an heirloom draped over shoulder blades.

A face pressed between metal and clamp,

a Mona Lisa smile beneath historical eyes.

I can see the tears that once fell

from her chin, so fragile.

Lost in a time when no one was found,

my lungs tremble with her fragrance 

I have lost more than my life.

In a dream I was dancing on counter tops,

my toes reaching for the stove.

Courage doesn’t matter to the ill-informed,

It’s naive.

Wisdom withdraws from the kitchen, 

elegant in its transmission.

The years of a moment that will not end.

Nothing else can matter if you could never begin.

I’ll keep biting the towel

until I’m relieved

of my responsibilities.

JP 2015

"It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop"
--Confucius