Inaction How Like an Angel
written by: Jeffrey Paggi
Rest is to an open sky as a hammock is to flying.
Sometimes one must empty the trash of ideas
and corrupted dreams, and repair the permissions
of a fragmented soul before a software update.
I spent an afternoon napping with chipmunks.
Can a cloud be lazy? The lavender breeze kisses
goosebumps on my cheeks as the creak of the rope
laps back and forth like gentle waves. It tastes like
a cotton wad. It soaks up the spit of my unsaid words.
Ignore the skunk spray of chores and work.
The cool bubbles of convection rise in my beer
and form a cumulonimbus head. Three more sips
until sobriety sets in. The disk may stop responding
while the operation is in progress. Tied to two hickories,
an upside down paperback rests on my chest
and makes my dull mind burrow into the earth
like a coterie of woodchucks checking fsroot tree.
When my eyes finally close, I will fly into the April blue.
The relaxing pressure of toy insects buzzes as I ascend.
I must say nothing to make these words.
The sky cradles me in its puffy embrace.
An ancient hammock tied to two hickory trees.
- Inaction How Like an Angel - August 30, 2025
