Peabrain

I preyed upon myself
through lack of imposed restriction
and dearth of self-shepherding.
Anything was–and still is–possible
when given the proper attention
or suitable elbow grease.

But who did I think I was fooling?
Certainly not myself:

Enigmatic Pilgrim Extraordinaire[!]

performing dichotomous dives
into shallower waters for all to watch–
on an annual basis.
I could have sold tickets
to these affairs. At least then
I wouldn’t be mired in so much debt.

If only I brandish a magic wand
and distract that Paleolithic peabrain
while my other hand composes tarantellas
or masters new guitar chords
to incorporate into the cliché magnum opus
that I’ve been planning since,
oh I don’t know… birth.

Author: Aidan Badinger

Wharved.com I am a poet. I write poems. Titles and subjects and subsequent readership are all part of one fragmented figment of our universe, and it's nice that we take it so seriously. Hopefully the craft remains and grows stronger for our children. View all posts by Aidan Badinger