Saturday, November 21, 2015

By Virtue of the Absurd

I’m boss of myself.  Me: walking
in a moon-suit rectified by mission
control. Sitting in a plastic car-seat,
steering like anything. Beep Beep.

My lucid headlamp: brilliant conscious
awareness, aims & purpose I haul into
the cave  to study darkness. Make it
perfectly clear.  

I know what I’m going to do.
I say it. I do it. I say what I did.
Boss of me.  Stick in a thumb,
pull out a plumb.
Oh oops o my damnit: I’m screwed
up & going to go see a person. Get
advice. Help. Recommendations.
What do you think I should do, 

I lose it.  Control.  How to regain?.
On track.  Do what I mean. Mean
what I do. Back in the highlife again.
Know what I’m doing. Do what I’m
knowing.  Boss, I’m going to go see
a person about this. Get some advice.
Guidance. No doubt.

Let me save you: haul your ass
back to where you started from.
Hold on. Hold on tight. Don’t
be letting go for crying out loud.

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