Ever dismantle a life?

Good lord, it’s a lot of work.

The giving away and selling, shuffling,

sorting, fussing and figuring.

Seems easy. Until you do it.

Then this liquid giggle burbles up

as you find you’d never intended to do

this thing that any spare,

and some not so spare,

time is suddenly dedicated to.

Now, leaning towards a future

you’ve not the faintest whiff of a clue about

as it pulls onward,

you stumble spin, slowly, staring out

in all directions,

including the one that’s got you in its tractor beam..

Zzzzzorp.

Dismantle, dismantle,

ditch this, heave that, pawn that,

huddle at this memory’s blast radius,

shake off the hold of that stubborn monkey,

you know–getting on with it,

despite the maniacal grip of safety,

security, and the other obsessions of mind:

Possessing illusions isn’t wealth, I tell ya.

So, here goes, scraping out the last from the burrow,

to leave only pounded earth.

What comes next rests just behind the heavy velvet curtain,

lights are richly set,

the theater hushes in the dark…