Wednesday, 20 April 2011

20/30

driving/i will have nightmares about this

it strikes me as far too delicate, this marriage:

the haywire physics of movement
that says "all matter is chaos", the
tender, pulsating imperfections
of poetry or heartbeats
 &
the lines lines lines
the haughty metronome
clucking its tongue at me.
"You will go left now.
You will go
left."

there are things that i must learn to
make a show of keeping in mind, like:
fastening seat-belts
and stopping at stop signs
and steadying the steering wheel

and then there are things i will quietly
tuck in bed behind the wheel, like:
any and all qualms i may have with things
that roll into an unmeasured distance
such as the days of the week

and every urge to stare at nothing in particular
and contemplate penning pseudo-poems
about children on bicycles

and my predisposition
(i am told it is only human)
towards things that are
statistically bad ideas
likely to lead to a litany of aches
and may cause nausea
and can
in rare cases
be fatal

like asking too many questions
or falling in love

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