Ajar is a sacred word
by Alicia Austen

Ajar is
a sacred word
now
that it is necessary to be noncommittal

Houses stand
erect and
old
shut like
fists
except
where breezes enter through open orifices
and private sounds
escape
above empty sidewalks

Looking out
from my armored entry,
I close my eyes
in order to picture what I do not see—
people walking past
wheels moving
a mass of
artificial
colors
flickering in sunlight

Is this why we–
periodically–
consecrate the mundane?
Does strife
imbue it
with special powers
until
it shines like
molten wax?

If a neighborhood is an entity—
silence anarchy—
what is humanity,
but a movie projected at the wrong speed
one step ahead
or
behind
reality

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I write things as I see them, which means avoiding the literal at all costs while embracing oddness, layers, and complexity. My goal is to…