Punctuation

Body stance relaxed

as the pen slides across the page

flowing freely, unencumbered.

Alliteration, punctuation as

anchors for consternation.

Words created from space

to make sense of the chaos

in my body. Painful emotions

and motions without cues in

syncopated repetition.

Line break

as I ache

in my body.

This pain!

I want it dissolved by the

rain rain rain.

How can I not

feign

for that is all

so hard.

Chaos!

Is that Lagos?

I have heard

there is chaos

in Lagos.

Isn't chaos everywhere?

Where? Inside the

atom.

Why? Because that is

life.

I go back to

it being

rife,

as I remember the

ripple

and the wave. I follow

them whole

until they

disappear and peer

on the other side

in the beginning of

time.

A chyme!

Full of joy

excitement

and fervour.

This joy will not

last last last,

lest I remember

the cycles of

life.

They are

rife.

Not if I

celebrate

the speckle.

I am the

speckle,

and the universe.

A Johnson

Photo by A Johnson (Lemoine Park, Kingston, Ontario)