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A Cloud, or the Lights Go Down


by Darryl Price


"… The deeper you go, the higher you fly
The higher you fly, the deeper you go"--The Beatles

We aren't missing. Will we be 
later? They continue to cause grief. 
Those three things, do they bother 
you? They aren't taller than you. 
They are smaller. It's in the 

poor way they treat others, always 
believing the worst. Always looking for 
a bigger confrontation. It's tiring. She 
combs her hair. We aren't listening. 
Not all the way in. More 

you learn, the deeper you are. 
You find yourself still being here, 
just more aware inside. It 
isn't a cloud. It's not a 
gold city. It's not a light, 

okay light but it's alive. I 
started to drink. Just thought I'd 
throw that in--stop being so 
sure you want to know everything. 
It's heartbreaking. We aren't missing. Yet. 

Later, when we're tired of living. 
Convincing ourselves we aren't sure. Do 
you know who I am? Will 
we all understand later? They'll probably  
drag as many of us as
 
they can away. We aren't loving 
and merciful, as a rule. It 
won't matter one bit. They continue to 
bomb the shit out of anything 
that moves against them. We aren't 

lying. Let's do some living in 
spite of their bitter quest for 
power. I like your presence and 
company. It makes me glad. What 
more can I say? We aren't 

anywhere but here, no matter the 
storied distance between each life. We  
aren't as together as might be,
but I'm still feeling those lips 
smiling at me with loving kindness. 

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