I need to write…
an unbidden mantra in my head
an unwelcome guest
crowding my thoughts
Lives floating in my consciousness
– a dead chicken:
“but oh, she was a good mother…”
– a bad maneuver by a taxi driver
suicidal or homicidal?
– “the man shot him in the chest,
I want his hat, he said…”
– Jokes among colleagues:
“I got to choose my friends,
but, alas, to my peril, my enemies like me…”
Rude awakening for me…
I thought i was over this phase of
willful Romanticism and flowery prose
I thought i had grown out of
lilies in the field and clouds in my head…
I thought gravity had finally taken its toll on me
and with much delight, I could finally … relate.
Is this regression or arrested development?
I need to write.
Ach, I need to write!