rivers



rivers world record poetry stories
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greenleaf
greenleaf queer writer of colour.
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
the rivers of the brain. (a poem about intrusive thoughts)

rivers

neural pathways

neural pathways snaking their way through flesh and pumping blood

neural pathways snaking their way through flesh and pumping blood like rivers in a field of red.

continuing, then,

continuing, then, the thoughts must be fishes;

continuing, then, the thoughts must be fishes; tiny minnows bumping and racing together, innumerable,

continuing, then, the thoughts must be fishes; tiny minnows bumping and racing together, innumerable, in an endless stream.

some are lost in the mound and despite the

some are lost in the mound and despite the fisherman's every efforts he can’t pluck

some are lost in the mound and despite the fisherman's every efforts he can’t pluck them out, or they slip through his fingers -

if the pathways are the banks

if the pathways are the banks then the commands of the brain to

if the pathways are the banks then the commands of the brain to the body must be the water itself,

if the pathways are the banks then the commands of the brain to the body must be the water itself, but sometimes these are jammed,

if the pathways are the banks then the commands of the brain to the body must be the water itself, but sometimes these are jammed, diverted, off to shallow little inlets

of dead water.

if the thoughts are the fish

if the thoughts are the fish and the pathways the banks

if the thoughts are the fish and the pathways the banks and the commands the water

if the thoughts are the fish and the pathways the banks and the commands the water then the evil, uncanny thoughts that

if the thoughts are the fish and the pathways the banks and the commands the water then the evil, uncanny thoughts that cross all our brains must be

eels

slimy and slippery

but not like the eels of the world

for these eels shoot viscous ink and have no faces

and are invaders to the little rivers

and sometimes they choke the fish into silvery dust

and sometimes they choke the fish into silvery dust or swallow them and corrupt them beyond recognition

and sometimes they choke the fish into silvery dust or swallow them and corrupt them beyond recognition or spit them out again, so they go

and sometimes they choke the fish into silvery dust or swallow them and corrupt them beyond recognition or spit them out again, so they go swimming in the wrong direction

entirely.

(in this light

(in this light and for the fisherman who fears entrapping an eel instead of a minnow

(in this light and for the fisherman who fears entrapping an eel instead of a minnow it gives new meaning to the phrase

“burn your bridges”

and sometimes

and sometimes just sometimes

and sometimes just sometimes it is tempting to hurl one’s fishing rod in the river

and sometimes just sometimes it is tempting to hurl one’s fishing rod in the river or else snap it in two, and burn the pieces

to stop thinking entirely.)

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