manifestation journal for a personal waterfall 

i go back & forth about "manifesting." 
a part of me loves a return
to ritual even in small ways. i see hungers
poured into the comments beneath an instagram post
of a shining frog & commands us to
"manifest here." someone wants a first child.
someone wants to pass the bar. another person
asks the universe for an easier night.
the word manifest comes from an ancient word meaning,
"a festival of teeth." i lied there. but wouldn't that
make sense if that's what it meant? i am sick 
of poems defining words as if the etymology
is hiding the truth. i don't want to know
where it came from. just like i don't want to know
anything about the origins of the word "america"
but sadly i am enveloped in them. the other part
of me thinks the whole manifestation thing is 
big depressing. surely we must have better vessels 
for desire than little notebooks & comments sections. 
surely someone must but listening? i once asked 
a demon for a book deal. he was like,
"what am i supposed to do with this?"
i shrugged. it was a shadow night. i didn't get
the book deal. i am still writing though. writing
into catacombs & in comment sections. hosting
a festival of teeth where we can all remove one
like a dandelion head blown clean off. i guess 
that is not fair. a manifestation is not a wish. 
it is a belief we might have some power to will 
the future forward. instead, i usually feel like
the past & the future are happening to me.
present is just a meeting point, shifting 
down a play button line. someone will always 
point out that their manifestations come true.
i believe this. that sometimes maybe there is
a ghost listening. maybe listening enough
to reach a hand into the guts of the world. 
i probably believe too much in free will 
& not enough in bugs. i don't manifest but 
i do sometimes, in front of a lit candle,
ask for more than this dirt can give me.