My Monday Metrical Musings #75

blue jeans

Flying by the seat of my pants

You ask and I answer
Oh how I answer!
I wonder whenever it happens
How on earth am I able to wander
From one topic then to another
From one end of the moon to the other
As I break into rhyme sometimes along the way
I’m struck by the rhythm I’m able to convey

How do I do it
I ask myself each time?
Is it passion? reason?
A desire to combine?
Everything I’ve experienced into one coagulated mess
Seeking answers to mysteries hitherto unaddressed
As though in so doing I’ll have figured out
My crazy universe
Wisdom bursting like steam from a kettle sprout

Like why the sight of a boy in a wheelchair now but not three years ago
Would open my floodgates, causing me to pour all unto the floor
Or the sight of a boy of seven, standing nearly as high as mine who’s eleven
Or the words of a stranger advocating for my cause
Somehow ringing through hollow
Making me almost holler
In rage and indignation at his unbridled impudence
How dare he stand in the gap when he knows nothing
Of this life my son and I live down here
While he’s cloistered in his safe penthouse up above

I answer and I answer
Yet really I have no answers
For in many ways I’m the fraud
Talking in circles and devoid
Of any sense at all
Maybe thinking by talking fast I’ll recompense
And make up for
All my ignorance and falsehood
Flying by the seat of my pants

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