begging to write, I position myself fruitlessly,
and on pointed daggers I begin, or try to begin,
stopping and starting and beginning.
trying to escape thought,
my efforts geared toward creating myself,
on the paper;
sensation sought, analysis neglected.
and all this time they tell us,
Critical Thinking Is Monumental, And
Will Undoubtedly Lead To Success,
and in my head, I’m waving my arms,
Stop, You’ve Got It All Wrong – It’s Not The
Thinking, That Comes Later.
and then, I’m satisfied,
knowing that I didn’t let them fool me
into forgetting that there’s a life out there
for me to live, there are sensations out there
for me to feel, that truth doesn’t always
provide happiness, or fulfillment,
that sometimes it’s the wonder:
the senseless, reckless imagination
(that so fiercely burns in the hearts of
you and me),
that brings us to progression,
that leads humans to something
a bit more beautiful.
you can’t create this passion –
you can only extinguish it.