Don’t forget Chicago
Restless and lethargic all at once. I want to write but I find it more difficult with each passing day; the days, I have noted, that continue to slip through me weeks at a time. Impossible. I am overwhelmed. Thoughts whirl around inside my head and escape out some invisible window I’ve accidentally left open. I can’t even catch one.
Everything moves too fast; the nights, the lessons, the paychecks. The people, contained and unconcerned, speed by with foggy faces. Empty smiles. I must be so forgettable. I am back wash, shallowing around their feet and outside their conversations.
Why am I so powerless? The sky circles above batty brash, mocking my immobility. I am paralyzed at asphalt’s bay. I need an angel at my elbow to remind me to move, to sing; remind me of my poetry that’s suffering, unborn. I must not forget Chicago. I must not forget to try. Despite the exponentially growing lists of things to do, the hindrance of obligations, school, work, Carlos, I cannot forget Chicago.
