Dear Mind

Dear mind,

you are a list of run-ons

with so many misplaced “ands”

plus a constant reminder

that I should not even be thinking

because to think is to deposit

time towards waste and to waste

time is to give another person the job,

which was supposed to be done at 8

a.m. sharp, but of course, the time

I spent letting my mind

manipulate my actions got rid of the sharp part

way before 8 a.m. was the thought in my head

that made me think of all I have to do

and what will happen if the world never changes.

So the pen burning smudges into my hand

gets buried into a cycle of squiggles

I tend to distract myself with upon being told

that “Breaking news: 50 more people have died.

A local man has proved to us once again

that the war on terror will only continue.”

And it continues to dent the paper

as rent only makes my thinning hair

push itself into the sink that smells

like regurgitated acid and flouride.

But not to worry,

I can possibly sleep until

my mind is not a highway

where the cars drive themselves

to the corners of my mind,

honking their horns for the lights to turn green.