Monday, February 28, 2011

19. Thirty-Two

Ask her what the freezing temperature
of water is, and she's not sure
guessing thirty-five, and you
rationalize that in the scheme
of things it's not all that important,
while you simultaneousy worry
grumbling a silent cliche.

The system is shot,
and kids aren't really being taught anything
in school in this country

So you realize
it then falls to you,
after all you're the parent,
and then comes the tightness in the chest.

The callouses on your hands begin to sting
as your grip on the steering wheel tightens,
and it's kind of funny that they aren't even
the product of honest labor, only anxiety,
this daily gripping and twisting.

Everybody wants it easy.

There's only one spin out
on the highway- no one's hurt -
but I'm falling prey to my
annual thinking error:
it's the last real day of winter.

And the falling rain
seems to confirm my hypothesis,
but you see the rain is freezing
on contact in some areas
calling bullshit on
my hopeful assertion.

So the semis are blasting past us
playing black ice roulette with
the quietly desperate lives
of these frustrated commuters and
their day dreaming passengers'
barely contained enthusiasm
and plans for the day.

I know what they know,
on some level,
that Spring is coming,
regardless of what I believe
or what
I'm ready for.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Blog Archive

Visitor Map