Like a bus
that couldn’t stop,
its driver, legs locked-
straight, baring down-
all the weight,
the failing of brakes;
beneath his feet,
where the tires
touch street
screeching, scraping
metal shavings
but can’t quite stop
in time not to
run right over me.
The Sledgehammer swings,
it’s wielder, well-meaning-
momentous force-
impact to the chest
sets into course,
broken by the best
of darkness creeping
in through
my own big mouth.
You will forgive me,
if I am miles away, it seems,
do your best to just overlook,
torn out pages from the book,
fake that smile,
a uniquely outworn,
chameleonesque style,
you’d be smart to ignore,
my presence for a while;
You will believe me,
when I tell you the things,
in the long moments – left unsaid,
but genuinely and truthfully spirited,
walk the plank,
if it pleases your mom,
you’ve got history to make,
best take that shit home;
You will regret me,
for your selfish timing,
so many months within a year,
and you chose now to wing it here,
absorb the blow,
of the sucker-punch,
quit your slithering below,
own your bullshit for once.
What does this morning’s dawning want to bring to me?
I could wash the wood floors, or climb a tall tree;
I could force myself to get my lab work done, finally;
Or I could sit on the beach and get stoned, like I want to be.
How’s about the library?
I can read my favorite books endlessly;
Surprise Sensei Han when I show up for karate;
Or just sit on my ass at my desk and write poetry.
Perhaps I will lead, in high speed – at the racetrack, again;
Or maybe shit some overpriced ammo down the drain;
I could always go hiking and get lost in the rain;
I’m partial to the idea of a tattoo gun’s special pain.
Today might be the day I dive for abalone;
Or decide to set my family of society finches free;
I just never know what’s in store for me;
With a mind so confined by its A.D.H.D.
Beasts of Articulation 