the lights were turned off
and i sit in the dark
i think-in-the-dark,
meditating on the cumulative
transmutations, transformative calculations
tallied on some grand calculator
sitting up there,
look, in the sky,
counting out the atoms
blinking in and out,
in some ricocheting pattern,
until the calculator's batteries run out
i trapped a little thought in my head,
and i kept it captive for longer than would be considered reasonable,
not sharing it with the rest of the class,
because they don’t deserve this little thought in my head,
though i’m fairly certain neither do i,
but i’ll call the thought steve,
and we’ll be best friends,
just don’t ask where i put that thought in my head,
since everything up there keeps getting lost, broken, and bruised
Fred Aiken Writing 