In this silence
I hear the wind and Sam yammering.
It is not enough.
I crave speed today
not Sam's slow pace and dry wit.
It will not do.
I'm having visions
and I'm not sharing them with Sam
sensitive ole cuss that he is—
visions of my old Honda Nighthawk unleashed
500cc's wide open
taking to the hills and curves at breakneck speed
and... to hell with it.
This silence, this wind, this birdsong,
this harmony of emptiness—
it hurts, it weighs, it is a burden.
Weighed down by birdsong, how 'bout that.
What I need
is speed—
raw, unbound, unfettered, unreasonable
speed.
Don't fret about Sam.
He ain't frettin' 'bout you.
Hanque O . . .
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gonna-burst/
