Hardening, as if in Arteries
It’s not like pouring water
from one fish bowl into another
because no matter
how hot it commences
the wax must cool
to the temperature of the lived world
and thus harden around dusty pebbles,
fake plants, possibly live fish
brandished with their country of origin;
else you could not live there either.
Pouring memory into the mind
to consolidate and get real
but eventually our brains fill with hard things,
with statues, pavement, and furniture
until there is no more room, to use a cliché, in the inn.
We end up, in speech, spitting items
like tables and gargoyles
at the people we love