sestina edit

i do not like waiting to gather speed

patience requires that my attitude turns

over like a coin, facing away from a focused direction  

as i slowly break my concentration to feel

myself settle into a steady cruise-control

toward a destination i sometimes pretend to call home

every time i leave said home

the time i spend away tends to speed

and swirl into a small concentrated pocket of an out of control

instant. i think, where am i now? and as the world turns

i find myself signaling left and right but can only feel

left alone without rights or reasons, without direction

this is when i know i have to ask for directions

otherwise i worry i wont find my way home

darkness, my hands navigating the walls to feel

for a light switch, no luck, my heart rate speeds

my palms sweat and then suddenly the light turns

on, my luck turns over, and once again i am in control

the coin toss can be a measure of control

or a signal that i lack direction

but i understand how to slow down before making turns

and i try to leave footprints to follow back home

so what usually varies is my speed

and if, how, or what i will feel

so i clench the steering wheel, it feels

firm beneath my grip and i am in control

i press the pedal, increasing my speed

and i slap the lever, using my directional

signal the second left, the brown and white house

upon completing that familiar turn

just how many times have i made that turn

but this time, the different sensations i feel

convince me that this is no longer home

the carpets, kitchen counters, remote controls

it all hits me at a dangerous speed

i turn my back on what was home to finally feel

as if i am in control of my direction 

and the speed at which i travel to my destinations.

sestina

i do not like waiting to gather speed

patience requires that my attitude turns

over like a coin, facing away from a focused direction  

as i slowly break my concentration to feel

myself settle into a steady cruise-control

toward a destination i sometimes pretend to call home

every time i leave said home

the time i spend away tends to speed

and swirl into a small concentrated pocket of an out of control

instant. i think, where am i now? and as the world turns

i find myself signaling left and right but can only feel

left alone without rights or reasons, without direction

this is when i know i have to ask for directions

otherwise i worry i wont find my way home

darkness, my hands navigating the walls to feel

for a light switch, no luck, my heart rate speeds

my palms sweat and then suddenly the light turns

on, my luck turns over, and once again i am in control

the coin toss can be a measure of control

or a signal that i lack direction

but i understand how to slow down before making turns

and i try to leave footprints to follow back home

so what usually varies is my speed

and if, how, or what i will feel

and if you can understand just how i feel

because we drive each other crazy for control

in this relationship we cant seem to agree on a speed

or even a direction

could we settle, together, in a home

what remains after the leaves fall and the seasons turn

now i believe it is your turn

to explain to me just how you feel

because i cant make your home my home

and i cant determine what is real, control

the cruise, take direction

because we are barreling toward nowhere at an impressively dangerous speed.

or maybe there will be time to turn around, face home

and feel at ease, realizing we can always travel

in control, with direction at a steady speed.

 

ew, that gum was gross

i was going to write a villanelle

or perhaps a sonnet

and as i got lazier i thought about writing a haiku

or just a lonely couplet

and then,

i thought

fuck it

i am ill

senioritis stole my brain cells

and all i want to do

is 

abso

fucking

lutely

nothing

and i almost dont even feel guilty about it.