AUTUMN EXILE – 75 Gms

All That Wanting, Right?
I wanted a poem to come out of my sadness,
but no poem came. I wanted a revolution
to come out of my burnout, but no revolution
came. I wanted a bird to fly through my open
window, but my window was closed. I wanted
sun on an evening when it was already dark.
I wanted just a bit of grief rather than despair.
&, in my shame, I wanted my childhood back.
I wanted to walk backward out of the room
where I kept my secrets. I wanted to say I’m hurt
before my hurt became a character trait I told
no one but myself. When I wanted unknowing,
I was given certainty, & when I wanted the hard
& fixed line, I was given mystery. Sometimes,
I wanted to give it all back, but to who, I wondered,
& how? I wanted a life to come out of my life,
but instead I was left with my life. All that wanting,
I think now, & still I woke this morning to light
& the memory of the time a bird did fly through
the open window of my apartment, &, scared
& senseless, shat all over the couch before leaving.
All that wanting, right? Sometimes it happens
& sometimes it doesn’t & sometimes it happens
worse. Make do, little friend I call myself. Walk
backward out of the room you have made out
of your wanting into the room of where you are.
The poem is here. The revolution, too. & love,
still, even in the evening, when light still shines.

– Devin Kelly

Contexts, descriptions, expressions and digressions can wait – wishes demand a more urgent expression; “Merry Christmas – The poem is here. Revolution too…and love still! Wherever you are – exiled into your wants or exiled out of your wanting, its all still here! Come to terms with your ‘exile’ and its forever Autumn in your heart!”

Here’s and exile from summer, forced to reconcile with autumn – more accurately the Summer Pilgrim forced into Autumn Exile.  So, what happens to flavors in exile? No, they don’t dissipate and fade away; they coat the parts that might fade with thick impenetrable longing and poke little holes, so they can breathe. Little do they know; the season of their exile slowly heals them sweet.  And so it begins, with a herby and sugary sweet aroma, carrying the consolation of something healed but still laden with the longing to get back to woody, musky summer notes.  There’s prominent herby ‘feedback’ with every sugary slurp. The brew slowly reveals its summer longing, turning woody, slightly musky with citrous and floral appearances, as it cools down. The red, oxidized P312 leaves smell of flour and butter.

“If you feel like an ‘Exile on Main street’ you must know you’re not alone. All that wanting, right!”

Brewing Instructions : 3 Gms in 180ml at 90 degrees for 3 to 3.5 minutes.