If life resembles a rollercoaster,
with ups, downs, head-banging turns—
entered for free, no real way off—
life bests physics in several ways:
faster, ever-faster, ka-chunk,
ka-chunk, kachunkachunka chunk,
until sound blurs, sights blur,
horizons collapse to this car,
this seat, these hands gripping
this bar. Life masters sending
your ride both uphill, downhill,
simultaneously. Life's car
travels quicker but on ever-
shortening track seemingly; you
crest one climb just moments after
you started a downhill stretch.
You begin to realize this speed
increase means your ride's end
will occur sooner than you
thought. Your youthful panting to
"just get to eighteen," "once I've
got steady work," "can't wait to
have kids," "can't wait 'til those
kids leave," "geez, if only I were
retired," now seems incredibly
foolish. Mentally straining to
get older yielded to its reality.
Now no strain's required. I wish...
no...no more wishing...just
stay here, be here, live here.
Here.
74/100
100 poems in 100 days…
…and if life seems to speed up, it’s seen even here. Didn’t I just post my 60th poem? How can I be on the verge of being 75% through this challenge?
all the voices in my head 