the core lesson to take away here is that
at a/n/y moment,
without warning,
an electrical storm could blow through here,
or a flood,
or some sort of nuclear warhead gimmick,
y/o/u know, something, anything, for the love that is (un)holy, everything,
and wipe away this thought as if it never was,
nor ever is
picked out my socks for tomorrow,
and it’s not the most profound thing to ever happen
to me, but i like to wear really wacky socks
with plain black and/or white t-shirts,
because it throws people off when they first meet me
and do a once over, from head-to-toe assessment,
thinking i might be kinda plain and basic,
but the suddenly see my cool and colorful socks
and go, well, that’s different, that person is made from a different cut,
maybe i should get to know them,
though i don’t think they’ll like how misanthropic i end up being
at the end of the day
i want to see you scream,
not because i enjoy the sound,
in fact, to be honest, which i never am,
i can’t stand the sound of your voice,
but don’t take it personal,
i can’t really stand any sound,
and envy the deaf every morning
when the dew drops while robins chirp
along to the empire’s anthem of seasonal dystopian destruction
sold out of the back of an old toyota truck
that has three flats,
and one round, round, round
Fred Aiken Writing 