Ode to a Bluejay Blues

Got the blue blue christmasy feeling.
My inner Elvis picking and choosing.
My senses half out in the heavens,
other half wondering when its going to each its ceiling,
and what's the origin of the sinking of my lucky number seven.

There's a blue jay in the snow playing in its infrastructure,
one of creation's advertisements.
Its moments like electricity turned on in its spinal column.
Biochemists and zoologists too far from the action to configure.
too tied down with detail to see the about-to-happen accident,
getting sloppy and solemn.

Cups of coffee giving diminishing hit potential.
Thinking about Buddy Holly's line about love is not-fade-away,
love is not just tangential,
and you could probably find a hint of truth in it if you conducted a survey.

You can take a plane and go soak up the sun at a resort.
Warming, for a while
pleasant memories in the making.
Praying they'll only slowly come undone, trying to forget about the final report.
hoping you guessed right about the guile
hoping you can depend on the braking.

The blue jay unaware of the guesswork that goes into being human.
The groans of my species just common characteristics you'd find in any decent field identification book worth being written.
The anxiety, the lust, the plans.
People walking like they're braced for being bitten.
Anguish hanging around like a hangover.

The dead preserved in cinematic celluloid and the even vaguer material between the ears.
If the anticipation doesn't get you the body blows will.
All that will be lingering is the refrains of forgotten loves and lovers.
And the mixing of the music with tears
til all you feel is a chill.

Somewhere in the future.
For now give me a moment in the snow with the mind of the blue jay flying low under the rainbow,
With my mind suspended from the the allure of the celestial architecture:

Raptured by the night
diffused by the day
Some unseen theorem giving it all motion,
clusters of stars thick with the light
of all the universe in play,
Mine and the bluejay's dna digging in, everybody doing the quantum locomotion.

Incense without smoke
fire without flames
high as an oak
that's been let alone to grow untame.

Outside trees and snow and sky.
A wild tang to taste.
Vacating the wastelands via the visceral.
A mild May moment for the brain to supply.
A moment you can trace
back to the first taste at an unidentified oracle.

On the edge between life and time
riding a raw nerve
blinded by the sublime
missing a curve.

At midnight, a turning point,
as the earth spins and the constellations drink me.
Like an emotion with the pull of electro-magnetism
until the wild mint
in the morning when the jays can be seen
flying thru the filters of absolutism.

Absolute life and absolute death unfettered,
feeding in fields without theories or graffiti,
with and without the will to be bewildered
and ready finally to give peace a treaty.

States of being or mind or maybe just flashes from a panoptic lookoff.
Right and wrong in the bones,
Waving to you.
Focusing on what part of the over load you've got to doff.
In with the authentic , out with the clones.
Blue jays just don't do well in a zoo.

Melancholy in the belly,
going down deep into mental death
bending apocalyptically,
half remembering toasts and oaths.

The screen lined with Ends
Both the possible and the improbable.
Knee deep in nitty gritty elements that feed the organic.
Wait 15 minutes to see what transcends
To see what's climbable
To see what's just another to-do tick off and what's titanic.