Impulse Controls

 

Impulse controls

 

One day I might just take up smoking

Just for the safety net it provides for the fingers

Instead of shoving them deep in my pockets poking holes

Looking for the chocolate I ate long ago

I can pretend to be

Someone else

Addicted to nicotine

Painting my fingernails a bright blue

In the middle of the night

Avoiding sleep as if it were a form of art

I will twist all the I miss you’s

Into smaller pretzeled versions of themselves

Yoga guru, I will become someone

Who doesn’t have a problem in ignoring you

Who can evasively leave the television on

watching for the place where the target appears

Like a random constellation, an

Automatic pilot

I don’t have to respond to

And then maybe I won’t

 feel like that corroded carriage

The underbelly crawling with rust

Brakes missing long ago

Reviews

[MissRed]

Very nice poem to read. I've felt that way before, so I felt a connection to it immediately. It was your use of words that I especially liked, and they helped me form a visual and "see" the story. For example, "I will twist all the I miss you's Into smaller pretzeled versions of themselves" is one of my favorites. I like the word "pretzeled"--made up but still has an obvious meaning and visual. Good work. Thanks for sharing!