I am possessed
I allow the possession
like a child allows a tantrum
I am like a child
but then…
why rage against that
isn’t one rage enough
and so the monster gets fed
and the monster isn’t the child

So what is the monster

Am I a rudderless ship
in a landless sea
more accurately and terrifyingly
am I a ruddered ship
in a landless sea
navigating, precisely to impossibility
charting a course
on the sea of absence

I am certain
I do not know

But these things inhabit me
they have me
these ideas
I do not have them
and I wonder if the ideas
are out to dinner
or at a coffee shop
or in class
and say to each other…

“I’ve just had a human”
and the other ideas say
“humans are a dime a dozen”
and another says
“it’s not about having a human,
it’s about what you do with it”.
and then all the ideas go back
to their business.

Am I a human who’s been had?
Well fuck!
It feels that way,
and tears well behind
and around my eyes
and in my throat.

Maybe I’ve got this life all wrong.
I think I might have this life all wrong.
What if I am the servant
Maybe not servant –
Vehicle
What if I am the vehicle
and that is the highest good
highest purpose

Something…
promise…
promise…
something begins to change
something changes

Could it be.
Could it be
I’ve been looking at the grain
of sand
on the beach
of the lake
on the land
surrounded by the oceans
of the world.

and calling it the world.

I think it might be.
I think it might be.

Something’s changed.
and tears well…
behind
and around my eyes.