Litigate. Commensurate.

Robert Ronnow
The Imaginary i

Litigate. Commensurate.

I’m still litigating in my villous pate
the family dispute re my son’s late nuptial,
his denial of his lifelong brother for his voluptuous mate,
and my boycott of the celebration.
There was no sure right or wrong decision
and I don’t want to forgive or be forgiven.
Joy or estrangement, either way
I'll live with it,
neither fault nor hate.

Harsh mountains and deserts, indigenous plants and people,
realities and adjustments,
there is a patience with which to wait out anger.
Most days are prose,
dualities and discrepancies,
an abstract, audial harmonization of the Big Bang and The Fall.
We may not reconcile before I’m in the vault.
So be it.
The clouds are with my mood commensurate.