If I let my mind go
for more than a few moments
How will I know
what I will think of, and if it will return?
It could honestly go anywhere.
Through a TV to old scenes.
Cables, static, sitcoms, screens.
Fish tank, get me out, what of it’s what it seems?
Dwell in speakers like a bear.
Sleeping, hungry, way downstairs?
Spring time, simmered eyes, crawling out to fresh air.
It’s me, it’s mine.
It’s me, it’s my mind.
Come see, it’s fine.
I’m me, not my mind.
Fear too many times it was told it was crazy,
It listened, I miss it, It left me behind.
Shout in silence like new books.
Flipping, fuming, pictures look.
Top shelf, soft served dust, leaning on how to cook.
Hop an old train by the moon.
Hot spring, the smiling, ends so soon.
Steel sends, bringing back the notion that it all flew.
Sometimes it goes for walks
for more than a few moments.
I’ve never known
when it’s going to rebuild things so I can return.
It could honestly start anywhere.
Pull the lid off the stew for a moment or two.
I wish it would start anywhere.
this is your life chuck johnson 