Start Making Sense

As everything disintegrates
I wade through the bloody mess of life
in hip boots, looking for reason and order.
Hoping the laws of the universe can fix
what no one else can. Or will.

I just want it all – somehow – to make sense.

The eyetooth that broke as I bit into a piece of toast.
Crickets in harness.
The limousine with four flat tires parked in the alley out back.
Kids in cages.

I just want it all – somehow – to make sense.

Doors that fall off their hinges when you open them.
The year you died on my birthday.
Bodiless gloves telling off-color jokes.
Improvised morgues crammed with body bags.

I just want it all – somehow – to make sense.

Rivers flowing upstream.
Carousels spinning backwards.
Dogs singing opera.
Children sold for sport.

I just want it all – somehow – to make sense.

Walls that talk.
Why I fell in love with Don Quixote.
Levitating fish.
Unplanted fields watered with milk.

I just want it all – somehow – to make sense.

Carpeted sidewalks.
Spontaneously combusting shopping carts.
Hearts that break for no reason. Every reason.
Elephants in three piece suits stomping people to death.

I just want it all – somehow – to make sense.

RC deWinter’s poetry is widely anthologized, notably in New York City Haiku (New York Times, 2/2017), Nature in the Now (Tiny Seed Press, 8/2019), Coffin Bell Two (3/2020), in print: 2River, Adelaide, Event, Gravitas, Meat For Tea: The Valley Review, Night Picnic Journal, Prairie Schooner and Southword among many others and appears in numerous online literary journals.