Once cut from the world’s rapid assembly...Then plunked back in without sound or blame...You search eagerly for the lever to repeat it, like a carnival ride
Once cut from the world’s rapid assembly
Then plunked back in without sound or blame
You search eagerly for the lever to repeat it, like a carnival ride
But your body won’t allow the function
The dance mat with the colorful steps has been folded, shut and stored away safe
Your ears stuffed with asphalt
All you smell is overripe metal akin to sweet cherries
New clocks begin their tick and turn while one key part of you is wailing
And the other part is admiring the road paint
All the grand plans die here as you lay soaked and sodden
Noticing the piles of ditched glee unevenly placed by the park’s turnstyle gates
Then the making of lists vomits out loose along the road a frank and silly result
“Don’t fix what makes you lame!”
Declaring yourself a genius you’re happy you can wiggle your toes
Without tears you press yourself up but most of you sticks to the ground
Your bones and insides flap down aside your spine
Same for your jawline, it’s wedded to the tarmac
You grip this confusion and crackpot solutions for all it matters
And with madness
With one more quick choppy breath you promise yourself
As the knobby-toed feet of the rescuers’ boots approach your face
Above all else, you must make your way blindsided in all of its glory.