Chicagoetry: Holiday

Holiday

This insistent lathe of mind
concocts a life of sorts
from the howl and whirl
of the surging earth.

It hums on without our steering.
Queer. God: give it a rest.

Let us limn a shock
of Lethe, cry us a river
of gilded forgetfulness.

Yes: staunch the grind.

This lathe of mind
revolves relentlessly,
shearing the howl
unto a manageable symmetry,

a simulacrum
of humble grace.
God: enough already.

I seek a tipsy barque
in which to dawdle,
where the hot grind
begins to dwindle,

letting go, letting go,
just to get a little leave.
Not to drown,
just to float a league.

For a little while, I just want to float.

God: can mind limn
one kind brook
through the hoary vacuum,

one blind gush amid the sawdust?!
I crave a holiday from the withering gust.

Mind grinds on, time
relentlessly diminishes

but I believe my barque
has but one more seam to caulk
and then I'll stop the clocks.

You needn't frown: not to drown,
but to float,

to flow, mindlessly, in the howl.

For a little while
I just want

to float.

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J.J. Tindall is the Beachwood's poet-in-residence. He welcomes your comments. Chicagoetry is an exclusive Beachwood collection-in-progress.

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More Tindall:

* Chicagoetry: The Book

* Ready To Rock: The Music

* Kindled Tindall: The Novel

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