Some find me amusing
Some find me bemusing.
Others find me vexing
Or even perplexing.

I don't care what you think
Unless I do.
But I mustn't look down
And start feeling blue.

Here is a poem I composed for you,
Like the ripples in the laces when I tie my shoes.

Discombobulating bobbleheads,
The knobby knuckles,
The seat belt buckle.
Introspeculating lobby beds.
The bumps in the road were on my head,
Disconnecting me from the thread.

maybe i should just press delete
to make my words disappear
because i'm not a poet.

Greetings, good sir, please, may you be troubled to donate your time and attention, so that I might share with you a little nugget of knowledge? Rather, a packet of information?

Yes?

Well perchance you have not considered this hypothesis,
but I do belive you may or may not be a natural born idot.

A natural born idiot, my good sir?! Why, my heavens, I do belive I most certainly have considered that proposition! In fact, I consider it every day!

they are terrible

I set the box on the shelf, watched it click into place, aligning with the others: rows upon rows of boxes, identical, never changing.
The conveyor belt carried them up and away. Who knows where they are all going. All I know is that this is my home. The place where I'm safe. The place I belong.

The quail and whippoorwill went their separate ways. They fled the storm, diverging in opposing directions. Packed a suitcase and flew away, never to be seen again.

Don't get caught in the storm, she told me. But how can I get caught when I am in the center of it all?

I lay here in bed,
The thoughts in my head:
Grains of sand caught in a dance by the desert wind.
But as consciousness slowly slips out of reach,
They settle down somewhere else
Far away from where they started
In this tiny world of my mind.