Bedlam

instability
is the picture of a scorpion on the back of my shirt
and thoughts of a hard left turn into the highway barrier
the rosy bloom of annihilation
screaming “There Goes the Fear” with The Doves
until I believe it straight faced corporeal
instability
on the course of my life
I’d like to get lost in someone else again
I’d like to lose myself in the wreckage
and have something to believe in
like faithful bedlam between us
cut softly into the frame of days I used to have
speeding on the backroads
looking at houses and imaging my life in them
looking for an accident around a curve
with the windows down
and the air conditioning on to soothe the humidity
with you in the passenger seat
telling me I don’t make sense
and I squeeze your hand
as it rests in your lap