oh frigidaire
anoint thine ears
with coolant leak
order my thoughts
in quixotic brain matters
submit thy will to
boreal questions
noisily hammered shut in
midnight interrogatories
between the hushed drone
of an electric silence
and the nightly tempest
of the loud ringing
a jr. high shrill
lasting for minutes
or as long as time can
last before returning to
God’s eternal hum, a cosmic background noise of
imploded retreat, at once, in the vastness of space & time
in the worry of all that matters
directionless, like the many green leaves outside my window
clusters of green held in the hue-browned arms of random limbs emerging from the morning haze

you’d think they would begin to see a pattern
that guy in 509 that keeps filling out service and repair forms
repeatedly complaining
about an “intermittent refrigerator noise”
the properties of bliss
freedom from want
freedom to love
to follow ones heart
there’s so much bullshit,
charlatans, imposters,
thy will be done
grant me
aesthetic asylum
despite the unseen ugliness
the white noise of urbanity
does it ever really go away
once it has ceased to be
does it not linger inside your head
buzzing droning
in the key of electronic
the properties of sanity
relentless hope
measured predictions
thy will be done
like most things
you can count on
this dystopian garbage
postulated as holy artifact
on earth
to keep a few things fresh and cold
because if you can’t buy the 21st century
with wealth or means
you live as a pauper
watching TV, catching the bus
reading old newspapers, double dipping tea bags,
mixing water with old catsup, laughing at old jokes,
content with living in stasis
as it is in heaven
this stone age pavement zoological urban safari
while everyone else drives around on the mobile web
in brand new cars
with shiny rubber wheels
detailed and financed by
our daily bread
on tomorrows last dollar
or tomorrows last breath
the soul has sold out
to the bankers, the cloistered demons,
and sanctified pimps
forgive us our debts
What are the properties of Manhood
his works, his peonage, his word…
given as bond against
his own labor in absolution
as we forgive out debtors
for in His submission, He Reigns
rejoicing in the eternal psalm
lead us not into temptation
a carefully measured omission
deliver us from evil
held deep inside the frigid air
for thine is the kingdom
that makes silence
and chaos that destroys peace
and the power and the Glory
and the Love that hangs in the balance
and the Word that became flesh
Forever and Ever


One thought on “frigidaire

  1. Beautiful Brother Pegues, yesterday Taylor and I were in the neighborhood and hollered for you but your weren’t home….

    “…grant me aesthetic asylum…”

    beautiful…brother Pegues is on fire becoming truely Master Po

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