"I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe" ~ Sir Philip Sidney

Distance makes proximity hard to find zip across the United States, passport in hand, to visit my mom, older now widow for a dozen years, would she mind never to see her son ever again ask me in a dozen years, my report places the blame firmly over my brow latch-key kid with a sadistic brother as unnecessary to argue when nothing will come from such futile debate ever since dad died, I gave up the ghost to social constructions, fear, greed, and hate ask me in a dozen years if the cost is my inheritance from my mother distance makes proximity hard to reach zip across the United States to what end if to grieve she argues, what is the point when to cast off this burden, at the beach never a care in the world, sea and sky if I return to treat me as a friend nevermore as family, we smoke a joint and say our goodbyes, nothing left to say nothing but stars, firewood, smoke, angry if I stayed, I would have gone quite insane edge of the western world, if I stood judged ...

Happiness is a state of mind, she says arguably as a squirrel quarrels potentially, grey, red, or black, it barks perhaps hungry for food, nobody pays interest in such animal behavior nobody cares in the least for squirrels except animal rights protesters, sparks sentence arsonists to years in prison settle a bet as to settle the score instead of the path of least resistance states of mind come and go, clouds in the sky as ephemeral as a tango dance slide across the floor elegant and high take a moment to applaud, say well done a reminder, no ideas but in things take a moment to breathe, the world moves fast equanimity nowhere to be seen objects, people, places, and things, she sings for a moment, in a foreign language maybe Marathi or Hindi, films cast in the Bollywood mold, this is her scene nervous beside a man who asks to sit decidedly across from her, track switch self-importance within conformity how tone of voice appears assertive while egg on her lips s...