Rebirth: Wheel: Me
Fallen leaves, a wagon wheel
For my virtues and my sins
I’ve been pretty good I think
Maybe next time I’ll be a saviour or a CEO
Jesus Dave or robber baron Dave
How cool is that
Or maybe I’ve been bad
And I’ll be born a serpent
Or a fruit fly, or a blade of grass
Or a virus on a turd
Fear and trembling
I get nauseous when I think of that
What about my past lives
Last time I think I was a cow
Lots of people think they once were cows
Don’t ask me why
Who knows? Who can fathom
The distance from a princess to a pigeon
Maybe it’s a roulette wheel
A deck of cards, a hunch
A lousy game of chance
Not a moral thing at all
Just a number in a lottery
A poker chip. Some immortal’s whim
This poem’s a creepy meditation
My self-centered rage against the wheel
I’m admitting my discomfort and my dread
In this lament and celebration
Of self, of old life, new life
Life that may or may not come
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Stink Eye Magazine 