Poem Therapy at 12:16 A.M. - Alberto Rios

The Cities Inside Us
Alberto Ríos

We live in secret cities
And we travel unmapped roads.

We speak words between us that we recognize
But which cannot be looked up.

They are our words.
They come from very far inside our mouths.

You and I, we are the secret citizens of the city
Inside us, and inside us

There go all the cars we have driven
And seen, there are all the people

We know and have known, there
Are all the places that are

But which used to be as well. This is where
They went. They did not disappear.

We each take a piece
Through the eye and through the ear.

It's loud inside us, in there, and when we speak
In the outside world

We have to hope that some of that sound
Does not come out, that an arm

Not reach out
In place of the tongue.

I can't sleep. Due to a recent hand injury, I can't type well or quickly, either, but that is a story for another day. Think: Christmas Eve, It's a Wonderful Life, copious tears, serious anger, a steak knife, a bell pepper, a four hour E.R. visit. You fill in the blanks.

You should know sleep is my friend and that I'm not prone to sleepless nights or insomnia, regardless of the problem presenting itself. You should also know I am prone to horribilizing, or catastrophzing. Think: take a situation or problem, any situation or problem, and I'll take it out to the netherworlds of the universe, (or perhaps the secret cities inside),for a good spin, bring it back to planet Earth, send it out for at least one more spin to see if I can outdo myself, then tuck it away and go searching for historical or mythological references. I go through at through at least ten cycles of examining the issue under a poweful microscope until I'm satisfied with possible outcomes. Yes, I know I don't control variables or outcomes, but it's good for a gal to be prepared! Sounds like a slow process, and sometimes it is, but usually I reach my conclusions very quickly. When the towers came down, the first thing I thought was, "My god! the Goths and Visigoths!" In that moment the only thing my mind could compute was that we were the Roman Empire and the barbarians had us. Then I got myself together, went down my checklist of every person I knew who could have been in those buildings and began calling. Then I got on The Onion and tried to smile. I did. I'll never forget the HFS bullseye, or the interviews from Hell with the perps.

Okay, back to not sleeping. It's now 12:43 (I told you it's hard to type!)I tried everything my weary insomniac friends swear works for them (see, I really do listen to everything). Not working. I'm feeling a little guilty keeping my puppy up so I'm going to have to sign off soon (he's under my chair kicking restlessly).

To the point: my father has cancer. We won't know until early next week if it's bad or if it has spread. I haven't allowed myself to catastrophize until today. I finally turned to Oracle, (the ancient kind). Here's the thing with Oracle, yes it used to explain things that science now explicates bloodlessly, and yes, it is relagated to the realm of kooky crackerjacks, but think about it, almost every religion has one form or another of Oracle that relies on some otherwordly power. If Julius Ceasar had listened to Oracle, he wouldn't have gone to the Senate. Maybe not the best example.

So, I asked and shuffled and this is what I got:
I. 2 Cups
II. King Staves
III. Ace Swords
IV. XIV Balance Yemana
V. 5 Staves
VI. Queen Cups
VII. 9 Swords
VIII. Queen Swords
XI. 6 Cups
X. XVIII The Star Inanna

I have no idea what the Oracle means, but the scary card didn't show up, so I'm going with the prognostications of the ether that his cancer hasn't spread. It's 1:03 and I'm finally tired. I'll edit later in the afternoon. Morning ya'll!

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