Bewilderhof – 7

January 9, 2015 § Leave a comment

Chapter 7
– a curious schism

the wood pile stimulated
some sense of duty

creating opportune
separation from
subconscious
directives that were
steering his carcass
toward encounters
unknown
within the barn

such were transportive
qualities of his
menial tasks
he could quarter logs
for hours
composing fugues
or mapping out
odyssey’s in his head

all forgotten as soon
as the axe was laid aside

as Bewilderhof
reached
for the maul
a fury of lighting bugs
sourced from the shed

an already bright
afternoon
brightened further
as they haloed around
his head

a thousand whispers
melded into a single
thrum

“you are such a soft
conglomeration
of flesh and fluids,
it surprises so
that a spark
somewhere within
resides”
the gathering of lights mused

“bothersome constellation!”
he mumbled, his
hand flapping

“these grounds
are your slow
growing shell and
the house,
my sweet
mollusk,
the house,
more than simply
rooms conceptual,

it does perplex
how that bereft
thing seems
to hold you
like a grieving mother
would a faltering child”

“infernal squadron!”
he sputtered through
medicinal kiwi as
he took to spinning the maul

“all there is for you
to advent a most curious schism is simply
for you to learn
to become
a Shiva
to its
Kali”

“damnation!…”
Bewilderhof yelled
as he fished about in
a pocket for
any available aerosol
“… this cloud bank
of confusing prattle…”

but they were gone,
leaving their customary
wake of silence
as an exit

silence paramount
no thrum
no whisper
no breeze

the maul fell from his hand

making
not
a
single
sound

(c) 2015 Fred Whitehead

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