Words

my four year old has a roller coaster in his head

that carries this crowd of crazy creatures

in every direction at the same time and it’s not just fantasy

he’s cramming a four year old universe onto his magic railway

but this is my roller coaster heading for trouble

hands in the air safety bar up

pushing past sensible limits ignoring barriers

clearly marked “danger: this ride needs repair”

too much work too much play

too many ups and downs too fast

too many beautiful words too little sleep

two little lithium pills reminding me I forgot them again

and I should be more careful but I can’t seem to stop

five days and nights in poetry Playland

taking every ride eating every treat

drinking in everything

but after words sick spinning

skull like a top I can’t stop can’t make my hand drop

the weapon I’m a word cop

talking a poem junkie off the Hellivator

see- I have alter egos

once upon a time I was a white rapper

Manic D bustin’ rhymes old school

to the tracks of The Sound Of Music

but the family never shut their fucking Von Trapps

and the second feature was a horror film

Halloween ’91 and I was Michael stalking myself

I’m supposed to be hypo-manic-depressive

it means under it means my crazed comic

my opening act lacked the crater-making impact

of my coal-black sad sack

but calling me hypo was astronomers saying

supernovas aren’t stars just one hit wonders

well they collapse after words

into holes so black they swallow light

right now I feel good not like when I wrote this:

unable to stop automatic writing automatic pilot

automatic thoughts popping up Whack-A-Mole

not a blur but a sharp ruthless hyper-real slomo

Agent Smith in The Matrix

and I am Neo stuck on a runaway no-amusement ride

not sure which reality’s going to stay on track

once I was the train wreck from The Fugitive

but I can’t play that scene again

I can’t afford to crash now ‘cause

Finn’s roller coaster is new and shiny and safe

but some day he may need my help

to stop his hurtling trains of thought

in 27 hours I’ve written five 3 minute pieces

of the best shit I’ve ever done

or maybe it’s just shit

I don’t care anymore ‘cause I have to stop this shit

I have to stop writing

I have to stop thinking

I have to stop