A re-occuring thought

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The sun at 7:30 a.m. is bright and direct
Piercing straight into my eyeline
so I have no option but to look downward
and see the shadow of myself
and the shadow of 4,000 pound
gas fuming, steel-framed, charging machine.
And in that moment it is a brunt end of a pendulum
While I am suspended in motion.
Yelling -
"Hit me.
Come on, hit me.
Goddamn it, hit me."

2

The most romantic thought I've ever had
is of the last thought I'll ever have
before the blood flow to my brain
stops.
That thought must stretch out
to the span of a lifetime.
I'll relive every moment I've ever had.
I'll feel the dew between your fingers
I'll see the sun reflect off Lake Huron
drinking Michelobs underage,
shirtless on the cabin deck with my brother.
You'll run up to me on the playground
and ask to be my friend again.
And at first I'll feel the chest cavity
shatter into pieces but then
I'll feel bliss.
Surely, I'll feel that.

3

But by decree of the state,
the speed limit is 30 miles per hour
and if by chance we do collide
I'll still breathe just fine,
but more than likely you'll stop
and I'll still be standing there motionless,
speechless, as cars line up behind you
honking their horns and getting out of their
cars concerned and angry at the deranged
man interrupting their day, and the police will be
called, and soon enough I'll be escorted to
the nearest psych ward in Evanston or Casper
and it's just far too obscene
for someone who doesn't even want to be
here.

Feedback -

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