Oh, boredom
Oh, anti-muse that makes
my brain feel like pea soup,
not the kind of pea soup with bits of savory ham floating
beneath the surface like little treasures.
Really I enjoy pea soup but I'd rather
my brain not feel like food,
a most controversial subject.
Oh, but give me controversy,
be un-still my heart.
Give me a floor to sweep
a public figure to despise
a novel to write
give me someone to love.
Or else I am left listing dog breads alphabetically
and I always miss some of the b's because
there are so many:
basenji, Bernese mountain dog, is rarely found on a mountain,
bloodhound, Boston terrier, bouvier.
Or else I am left counting the shades of
green in a forest, too many to count once you
start paying attention.
As many as the number of days
it takes for a friend to become a lover,
as many as the number of traffic cones in the city of Boston.