Denigrated Design

The flowery spills, winding thrills of Marian Bantejes,

speaking in circles

the way we wonder together,

wandering through

currents of days.

For so, they are hardly circuitous and ornate, drawn out of lost jewellery and spilled wine

On cotton cloth.

You can wash the currents of life down, bleach them with lemon in the summer, and stain them again in winter with frozen pine needles. The sentimental  

Is alive,

It cannot be pushed below limp daisies by the base of manufacturing glitterati, hard hats on fashion, strolling down the gangways, snap-snippity-snap, photos for the blazes, what they might call the crazies.

Words are their own denigrated designs.

The slippery parcels of syllables and glottal stops, clicks and talks

between

people who assume so much more than any one word, strung together through thin green lips, could ever frame,

refrain.

Don’t stop with the fluid remake of what we all know to be true.

Dorian LaGuardia