Denizen Of A Deep Dive Poem by Denis Mair

(in response to Ralph La Charity's poem 'because you asked, ' posted Jan.22,)
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Hipsterdom resorts to a seamy backdrop where the shadows are studiedly blase

towards all attempts to chastise wastefulness, thus allowing cracks to form in a moribund shell,

opening a fourth space beneath community, where the terminal cats gravitate precisely because they receive no inducements.

They bring encouragement of their own--- be it a bottle or a scene-making knack,

or a pretzel of desire, performable and unceasingly mutable.

The survivor nimbly rides the noospheric exhalations as long as they last, in and out of venues,

gathering and contributing to the transpersonal nerve-net ripples, shimmered over by the melodic cursor of a waking dream,

but having to wind down many times, having to brave the chill of the rapport fading time after time,

to study for the next time, even while walking away, to keep soaking in it and soaking it in,

taking on the freight which at the right moment is no weight,

holding generations in little more than a notion riding the air on a few filaments.