chill pill, for lack of a
more scientific term
I've heard they're manufacturing
a sanity-saving innovation these days,
something cosmically important.
A saucer-shaped innovation
to alleviate my massive headache.
It's just a theory with relativity, but
what would it be like if we all
orbited around our collective insecurity
like planets around the sun,
relinquishing control to an unseen force
like fate, or something equally discreet?
If we let ourselves float interminably, a
certain centripetal acceleration pulling us
radially inwards yet our incredible
velocity keeping us in the outer
layers of the atmosphere, far away
from the planet's otherworldly worries,
the galactic gamma-like dangers,
the immensity of human folly.
I believe we'd be unstoppable satellites,
following elliptical paths, never being
brought down by the world's vast array of
problems, regardless of their gravity.
A Pair of Jeans
Jean is staring at Jean
You'd never guess her
anger had faded,
especially since she'd been
washed, hung up to
dry and left alone on
Saturday while Jean
went out with Levi.
"So Lucky!" So
Jean branded Jean
a bad sister.
"Aren't we supposed
to be a pair?"
Jean exclaimed, but
Jean didn't listen so
Jean gave her the boot,
cutting and flaring
her temper, leaving
holes in the fabric
of her size zero patience
and making her
resent her sister, since
she'll always be
just one of the
pair of Jeans.
Now you're holding up
a piece of me, a shard
of shattered glass, and
you're waving it in the air,
moving it side to side,
refracting light in colorful
prisms of enigmatic meaning,
capturing like a dreamcatcher
the light from my weary eyes,
my irises exhausted from all
the searching and focusing on
him, of singing hymns of no
real religion and listlessly
praying for someone to
understand me, to recognize
the value of stained glass
even though I'm broken, even
though I'm either dangerously
jagged and hopelessly imperfect,
or I'm the perfect last piece to
the mosaic you must complete
to see the beauty in yourself
There is the most satisfyingly continuous stream of
consciousness pouring down in waves, in sheets
of effervescent memories, in a deluge of dreams,
a watershed of wishes and a downpour of desire.
I cannot catch my breath; I cannot flee, yet
this type of waterboarding is torture-free.