like pulling bones, from a still live fish
without water
this process is painful and slow going
i am the fish, its scales too.
a screwdriver, its undoneness, i know
so too, the severance a pair of needled nose pliers will impart
but the excommunication, the illumination, that’s new.
is it true that the energy running through the veins of my walls
is the same as the energy running through yours?
do we all mix and mingle at that very same magical circus in the sky?
sockets sing and call out for things;
plugs, keys, the screwdriver maybe
sometimes when i hit the switch there is a shock
sometimes just a flicker
sometimes nothing at all.
i am inside the entryway now
just past the heavy screened door
the welcome mat
i can’t see the wires or the scales
but feel them there, buzzing all around me.
i am rewiring a house.
not today
but not not today, you know?
origin..
lately life has felt especially trying, in a multitude of loud and quiet ways. at the very same time, life has felt especially beautiful, tender even..timely, fortunate. i am certain there is a rewiring of sorts happening not only here, within my body and mind but also out there, perhaps more significantly in the collective. while i am usually able to find a way to lean in (eventually) to what’s coming up, the front of this year (2023) has felt particularly laden and laced with the discomfort and darkness, the uncertainty that is the reality of this most human experience we’re all experiencing. this poem is my attempt to put words, rhythm and form to this feeling.
santos scribes 
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