Three days gray and poorly tuning out storm clouds
For half of a half of a second
I almost enjoyed the weather knowing it always changes.
As soon as I noticed,
I lost it.
This time of year reminds me of fresh pencil boxes
Setting intention inevitably broken
Approximately the moment
Intention becomes putting your own nose in the corner;
Wearing the dunce cap,
So to speak.
So to speak of dunce caps and corners,
When will we learn to stop doing things proven ineffective
For a mere twelve generations ago?
Someone wrote of this in biblical times
Yet here we are again
Fools in love
Or love thy neighbor, for Christ's sake.
Drawing lead graffiti on the the school desk
Not looking at the clock
Looking at the clock every three longest minutes of your life
Wishing to positively BURST out of skin
And out the door
And around the corner
And climb the tree outside the window taunting.
Those days I sat up straight and paid attention
Those days I played sick to stay in bed with you
Those days I was reciting well rehearsed motions
Those days I actually
Against all odds
And saw the drop of knowledge disappear into an ocean of unknown.
Sometimes I almost enjoy the weather
Knowing it always changes.
But for those three days gray
It seems as though it will be gray forever.