Somewhere in between young and old

By the time I started to realize what was happening
They already had me
Still, I tried to fight it
I skipped class
And spent every weekday
In the philosophy section
On the 13th floor
Some kindred spirit
Had written
In red marker
On my favorite desk,
“Ships are safe
In the harbor
But that’s not what ships are for”
For a few months
Of my sophomore year
It seemed like
I’d jumped off the conveyor belt
In time
But I was already
In the belly
Doing my job
With the other cogs
Because even if you’re not working
They’ve still got you wrapped up in it
Somehow
I cared so damn much
What my dad thought
And the girls at school
I studied hard
And when that wasn’t enough
I cheated
You see
They get you when you’re young
And you’ve got no idea
You’re still wet
You’re drenched
And you’re already counting blocks
It takes a few years
But they keep at it
Until you’re sure it’s all about the blocks
You get old and you get set in your ways
And you don’t even want to smoke weed anymore
You just want to feel a little less pain
And you laugh when you think about
The meeting at night
In the abandoned room above the dining hall
And the plan to distribute pamphlets
And overthrow the whole university
You laugh at it now
But you were dead serious then

June 23, 2023 at 06:37PM

The lump in my neck

Is probably benign
But nonetheless
Makes me think about
What I would do
If it were a tumor
I realize
The article I’m writing
Is less interesting
Than I convinced myself it was
In order to motivate myself
To keep writing
I’m grateful
For the good times
Fond memories
Play like blurry films
I imagine I’d be given some time
The cliché of the doctor
Telling me I have
Insert number of months here
I’d probably start living
The way I should be living
Right now
But the bump is benign
So I keep wasting my days

June 20, 2023 at 07:01PM

I write best when I feel good

I know
It won’t last
I have to
Get the words down
While I still
Feel good
I want to play
Death metal
At max volume
But it’s 4pm
And the sun is up
And my neighbors
I hold it in
Point it at the paper
Proceed to type

June 06, 2023 at 04:19PM

Untitled

That boy
Striding
Across the street
There’s a reason
That old men
Wear watches
The boy strides
Across the street
Looks down at the watch
On his wrist
Steps longer
Walks faster
He is too young
Who gave that boy a watch
Who told him
He had somewhere to be
It’s a shame
To think of midnight
In the morning
the li

June 06, 2023 at 08:05AM