Mind Wandering

by A.M. Broadous

March 2019

It’s a risk, but I’ll choose banality.

I’ll lie on a hill and watch the clouds

drift along like dreams—nonsensical

and free. Armadillos, rocking

horses, potato chips, and snapdragons.

 

Misshapen phalluses and Fu Manchu.

They have very little remorse for

interrupting my day, just like you.

Your vaporous visage trails behind,

a renegade cumulus that bears

 

the thin bridge of your nose, dimples,

your unfettered desire to float and keep

floating still, till what remains is only

the mist of memory. So, I’ll grab

two fistfuls of earth, stir my limbs

 

to a handstand, and rattle this world a little.

I’ll bring down the sky and everything

with it like loose pocket change. You’ll fall

to my orbit, and I’ll press you to my lips—

my lost dime, shiny and found.

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