The Hobbyists

It’s just
a thread I pull on
now and then

A quick out-and-back
to the ethereal plane
for groceries, mana
and
—oh, did you need anything?

that’s fine…
I’ll see what I can manage
or spare
making time
without harming
the intangible

wait, I think I got something…
fishing pole, spring-loaded
reed arching, down
hung over
line spinning out, unreeling
still performing quite admirably
hooked tight, along for the ride

flicking flies
buzz swatting, back-handed
in wide, sweaty waves
eyelash flinching, uncontrollably
rolling sideways
looking for remote possibilities
and pretty, young things
yearning to be seen

side-stepping
out
from under fallen wreckage
taught to see
ivory vs. ebony
life in opposing keys
vibration
leaping out, leveraged
under felt-tipped hammer
bouncing cavernous open shafts
restless, to avoid capture
played with sustained pressure
under lid and pedal
I heard them cry
oh, to sing
while being buried alive

Hobbyist

is a word

that dismisses

and exploits creative work

done outside the structure of capital.

We are not hobbyists, anymore.

🛠️