Crow Pose

Zen on a bonnet
And some paces West
Down the sloped road to the T intersect-
ion, some guy can’t handle the traffic.
 

“I’m going through, you fucking idiot! Back! Up!”
 

The sun is warm and I’m dressed
In rowboat realness,
And my dog wades through clover
To writhe in bliss
On the baseball field.
I’m not remembering my youth at play,
Nor my future roles,
Just petting his pink belly as he rolls.
 

When we say we ‘come to,’ maybe
Sometimes we mean
We were calm in the Present,
Without self-consciousness present;
And now we’re back
Flitting across time as if that’s right
While our hearts hack at the jolting height.
I never was much for roller coasters.
 

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8pmf84/quixotic_is_intentionally_misspelled/
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8phpvd/it_was_hot_and_they_took_the_tv/