bliss station ~ poetry

waiting waiting

I thought waiting was like whispering meant
only for                                   those whispered to -

but there is still waiting          to lean forward
to pier out an ear to make up stories to prove
I have stories to tell leaving frizzy ends
into the delusion of there being more -

it is not the waiting where you sit & no one comes
it is          you have no intention to sit nor is anyone
supposed to come

it is not biding     biding is waiting with endings
whispering is waiting for voice
a power -                   I look up laws to pacify riots

modern & ancient, dictatorial and democratic
but there is still rioting                        in my head
not a hunger strike not fire throwing
but an active passiveness somewhat
very much like waiting -

I want to be animal sometimes. molt, like a snake
& tailor new skin looking at the weather report
be in a cocoon to think
a butterfly dream

but there is no waiting                        in human -
we cleave it open & emerge with half-formed
wing skeletons - I don't know
how much waiting there is on the other side

I only know how much there is not.

~Ajay
8/9/2019