Bad Sign

Everything would be better without a body
At least half of my choices would disappear
And I’d be a disembodied brain
Floating
This day should end early of it’s own volition
To explain the way that time stops when I sleep
Speeding home from work just to get away
From staring
To lay down with the curtains open
And watch the sun slink into oblivion
Setting the bedroom ablaze
And closing my eyes until
When I open them I cannot tell the difference
Between darkness and nighttime because
I’m tired of making good decisions
That other people nod their head at in respectful violence
People adore logical decisions
Logic my mortal enemy
Logic my measured risk
Measured only to exist
Getting out of bed is the hardest part
Not waking up
Setting out for planned acts of contrition
For my desire to lay with the indecision of a first life
Like I haven’t done this before a thousand other times
The indecision of a first life like this one is a karmic debt
From the last time when
I moved with my heart
And ate from the crust of the earth unquestioning
And the world owes nothing back
And the cosmic jest of reincarnation is that this time
I am bound with labels of mental chastity
Staked in the center and perfectly in conjunction with the
Constellation that birthed me
Born on a bad sign