Summer Leaving Irritation
I keep getting this gnawing feeling that I should
be seeing things from another perspective --
should, or can, or had better, or if only.
If only I could. If only I should.
Instead, it's just the same old same old
festering in me like an open wound,
tasting of metal and chocolate.
I should take a notebook everywhere I go.
I should take my camera everywhere I go.
I go, I go.
Until bureaucracy and summer clipped my wings.
But autumn should be coming -- here for the next
three days, at least -- and then, what?
New wings, and screw bureaucracy for what it is?
(Mostly illogical and not remotely simple, for anyone.)
The sun still has teeth, but the wind is a balm.
Do what they ask,
just do it,
and screw 'em. Outta your hair. Outta my hair.
Holding your breath,
waiting for summer to pass.
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