Poetry | Fred Aiken Writing

September 16, 2023

WILD HAIR

when i get a wild hair to straighten out my extension cords,
i feel like i’m engaging in battle with hydra,
with each knot untangled,
another one forms, a constant string of labyrinthine orange, black, and yellow
pieces of electrical conduits that hang in my garage,
mangled pieces of electrical wire that i forget about,
until i need to hang christmas lights,
or power the power washer,
but i wish it didn’t feel like an impossible task
to make my extension cords look neat,
but i dunno, maybe i’ll buy one of those reels that keep them
nice and tidy, at least then i won’t keep tripping off my own damn negligence

September 15, 2023

WHEN STEALING ISN’T STOLEN

i stole nutella once from the store,
not because i had to,
in fact, i had the money in my pocket,
but i didn’t want to,
though i’d rather you not get the impression that you
think i’m some sort of kleptomaniac,
because i’m not,
but maybe i am,
i mean, i will admit that i felt a certain rush,
but maybe that was the sugar high i got from
shoving my hand into the nutella jar

September 14, 2023

CAUGHT

caught daydreaming,
caught naked in front of the Speedway gas station,
flailing limbs, feet bleeding from scratching against the asphalt,
yelling about the gas prices,
bathed in sweat, with the faint, no, the overwhelming scent
of gasoline steaming up and choking me,
i don’t know why the price keeps ticking up,
but a subtle anxiety settles over my entire being,
and i feel hungry, despite having ate a salami on rye
twenty minutes ago