Nimrod

Won’t call my friend;
Pretty sure he’s dead.
And I just don’t have
The time to process that now.

The other day I was out driving and
I closed my eyes and I
Laid on the gas and I played
Classical music
As loud as I could.

Sometimes I stop breathing
Until my ears ring
And the air ripples like syrup.
Theres’s peace in the noise collapsing through me
Slow, like a car crash.

When I opened my eyes
Going 90 I felt the hum
Of the world race towards me.
Honest and uncaring
it washed over me like AM static
and classical ringtones
Until all fell back to silence
And I remembered what it was
To be crushed.

How to write a poem
Rediscovery of the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker