Fish over Bridge over Water

[Disclaimer: this is not poetry; it is nostalgic head vomit that seemed relevant to this class. That is all.]

The swing of the road when you take it too fast--
just a little
too fast.

Louder music, because it's getting
sucked out the open window because you're letting
in the sun you're letting
in the seeds you're letting
in your allergies because sometimes
it feels(so damn) good to itch.

Paper that prints
just as it should:
Front, only. Ready to read. Ready to turn in.
Navigate the hours, and you've got any seat in
the world, in the building
In the six, seven circles or
curls that I'm thinking of when I get lunch,
When I've never been hungrier or happier
When my hands sweat and fidgeted and rubbed
at the desks I drew on
My pictures, My papers
my stomach, sick
with nerves, with humility, with arrogance, with love
God, what a cocktail
I was in love
but not with you--arrogant, remember?
I was in love with what
you did to me
how it scared me
how it thrilled me
how you didn't even know
because it wasn't about you (remember, arrogance)
it was skin
and wood
and concrete (spit) concrete
I see deer here, too
but there was something exciting about seeing them there. Context,
context. Here it is nature; there it was myth. Short, cropped
brown fur like the day you showed up headless
beautiful, but headless
I laughed because I was terrified
and you were uncanny and--

look,
I've meant to talk about a time and place, but
I've wound up talking about you again.

--I can't believe how much I changed, then. Forced to change, forced myself to change, so something inside could keep living in thrall, dizzy and spin. You can fuck yourself up plenty without drugs, without anything at all, if you just know how to play tricks. Think twice. Once for the truth; once again for play.