he impact and yet I suspect,
I am predisposed to the role
in this insanity,
as if marked from birth,
a sign on my forehead
or floating over my head
only someone like her can read,
selecting me to play out
a part in the passion play
I never intended to perform,
yet, like the needle in
a old fashioned record album,
once inserted into the groove,
I am doomed to run through
the whole thing until its natural conclusion,
too predictable to avoid revealing
who I am or how I feel,
knee jerk to each temptation,
doomed to replace (in my mind at least)
those who came before me,
like a man looking at himself
from deeper inside,
telling himself not to do this or that,
and yet compelled by some unseen force
to do it anyway.
If I close my eyes
and click my heals,
maybe I can get back to Kansas.
No comments:
Post a Comment