Let Me Roll With my Routine, Please

I went West once
all the way to California
I made a point to only stop at BPs, churches, and side of the road fruit stands
I’d drive from 6am to 6pm

my Corolla kinda puttered out at one point
so some church man with a mustache worked on it
I got kinda mad because it threw off my routine
I had to start at 6pm and go to 6am.
so mad.

he sorta inquired where I was from
“You from here?”
“Uh, Ohio actually.”
“Oh.”

2 days of traveling
1 night, too
(8 fruit stands)
(3 churches)
(I lost count of the gas stations—I blame it on Rebecca)
Iowa to Utah made me a little depressed
but it wasn’t all bad
in Nevada I met this girl named Rebecca
she wore mom pants and tan nail polish
was about 27
smoked a little
had this habit of telling me the next exit was her stop
and then would make me stop at Citgos
she knew I hated that
so I left her at one.
still feel a little guilty about that one

California wasn’t that impressive, actually
but that cold blue ocean was a release
just ran in
clothed

I had a destination
just didn’t understand my journey
some things weren't so clear
but I knew how to get there, didn't I?
I knew how I wanted to go, OK?

7:30
May 12th
And despite the pitter-patter of morning rain
Enough dim light seeps through my blinds
That a stream of it reflects off my wooden floor
Piercing thoughts war morning’s haziness
So I shove open my window
And pull my white sheets over my head

Claude Debussy’s most popular piece quivers through my mind
One quiet evening
Two months past
Flitters by
My legs sting
Remembering your story

The bedtime concerts must be one of your favorite memories
Even then, with my head on your chest
Your heartbeat quickened

I picture your sleepy blue eyes
Watching your father
Move to his piano and play for you
His favorite fan
Claire de Lune is spine-tingling as is
But he’s good
He’s got talent
His fingers easily flutter over the keys
That piano is an extension of himself


MS
Stole part of him
He’s propped in a wheelchair
While Mom walked out
No longer a musician

You hate your mom.
Can’t understand why he still loves her
“Last time I cried I was 17.”

Why?

“Mom issues.
But I’m over it.”

Hungry for Something New

Died of starvation
Everything was insipid

Dissect this cadaver
And you’ll find
That my eyes could no longer see
And my skin could no longer feel
Ears couldn’t listen

Halfheartedly living this senseless life

What kills me is that
Apathy was my own choice

6:00 News

I yank the antennae to the left
Bursting through the static
I see Dick Goddard pointing to dark rain clouds
But I hear crackling, then Spanish
"Mi amor, yo quiero estar contigo."
Ridiculous double realities

Am I done or not?
Your mixed signals
Yield my indecision

Shall I tinker with these fickle antennae?
My patience isn't very stable
And this connection is proving shifty, too

Can't you see that I'm standing here
Desperately seeking clarity
Perhaps this station will never come in
And the next station over is clear.

Glass Cover

Put on your glasses, little fool
Your emotions are all over the place
Cover your tears with those metal frames
Glass barriers will cover your red, swollen eyes
You'll see better now that you're not drowning in self-pity
Removed, Focused, Blocked, Protected

Hello College

So I’m sitting there in 8:00 bio, right
DNA double helix—
Thanks Watson and Crick
But my mind’s drifting to summer
When I’m out of here

As much as I’m able to succeed in this collegiate atmosphere
I am aware that it’s contrived
Preoccupied with myself to get a “global perspective,” hmm?
Load of crap

Plastic Happiness

I ride my carousel
Atop this manmade beast
The world becomes a swirl
Faces and scenery snap by
I’m up then down
Everything is picturesque in this Monet world
I know, I’m far too impressionistic
Preoccupied with childish whims
Going only in circles
Such gaudy lies
Really, I should jump off

Fun House

I can't contain it any longer
I'm spewing my insides--vomitting on reflex
Skip the litmus this time
I know it's acid; it's burning my throat

I trusted a mirror I designed myself
and now there's no way out of this fun house
My distorted image is a useless guide
Stuck in an infinite corridor behind the glass

I thought time would heal this sickness
I thought I had actually changed
Guess I was too focused on myself
to realize how selfish I still am