Do Diffuse My Dejavu
Humor me for a brief, sparse moment.
Hear me out as I preach to you.
I've had this moment once before.
Do diffuse my dejavu.
...as I recall this moment
I am about to write about a bombing, a death…
The loss of human life. Just because I couldn't
take it anymore. I couldn't stand it.
He just didn't shut up, always talking and talking.
Just nonsense and psycho babble.
I pray one day I'll forget his face and name.
That nothing will even remind me of him.
But, something tells me that I will have a dejavu
and he will be there, to bring back the unresolved,
The unremembered.
I need to go out to the country,
or better yet to the forest preserve but,
now it's full of snow.
Wrapping my neck with my wool scarf,
sliding on my soft, black, leather gloves,
adjusting my warm, black, rabbit fur earmuffs,
I will walk into the piercing winds of my home town, Chicago.
My cheeks grow blush
as I fumble for my keys.
Shivering, I start the car.
Seeing my breath,
I'm chilled to the bone,
it reminds me of how lonely I am.
I'll have to shovel the driveway when I get back home.
Backing into the street I wish I was able to smell the flowers.
Oh, how pretty the were in the springtime.
All I've got to look forward to is the Super bowl and I hate football.
Humor me for a brief, sparse moment.
Hear me out as I preach to you.
I've had this moment once before.
Do diffuse my dejavu.
