middle places

2

April 28 by The Running Son

middle places

fourtyfive
is only middle aged if i live
to be a skull.

at thirteen & a half
i scribbled skulls
on my pant leg & ftw
waiting to go out
tonic & young & echoing
like cobain.

saw a human skull at fifteen
& it took the juice out of me
all white sponge & teeth. choral
at the bottom of the sea
& dark sockets
& bleached things too concaved
in places & all cavities still haunt
my dreams.

i was middle aged
at seven & three quarters
when a neighbor
invited me in
& showed me his real face.
eyes my same soft sort of gelatin
but it would be two decades
til i could read consistencies
& manage public exposure
like an fda controller.

i ride my bone frame & wisp
onward & assume these questions
have answers that really haven’t
changed since the middle ages,
assuming tomorrow’s accepted
menopausal range may be the new
eighteen & no matter the answer
on whatever given timeline
all beings pass
middle places.

 

 

 

by Jim Aldrich (:

 

©2013 JimAldrich

All Poetry by RunningSon, aka Jim Aldrich

.namaste.   -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •-   .namaste.

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2 thoughts on “middle places

  1. Wayne Jordan says:

    I am a skull. It’s not so bad…

  2. skulls are grave (lol) reminders of our lipless smiles, seedless sockets, and hidden innermost expressions for eternity – nice knocking into them so early jim

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RFB editor Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013

RunningSon aka Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013 | This site is dedicated with the deepest gratitude to Dr. Cláudio Naranjo, whose writings gave me life.

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