shove it down

There are mornings I wake

more rested than ever.

Oddly enough,

those are the days

that typically lead me

right down the shitter.

I’m not sure why.

Maybe it’s because I am not used to waking

fully repaired.

That’s what sleep is supposed to do, right?

Rest us. Repair us. Prepare us.

So we can be the best






Tax payer,



we can be.

But don’t say that or write it.

Don’t make it known.

Honesty is a disappointment.

It makes a man

fall short of expectations,

and illuminates misalignment with prescribed paradigms.

Just shove it down.

I’m so used to running on empty—go, go, go—

that waking with energy and clarity

creates confusion.

My mind makes more revolutions.

The bearings spin so much.

I need lubrication.

To keep from burning up.

My fingers need to move over the keys

for more than a few minutes a day.

I need an outlet—

like steam whistling out of a teapot.

Nobody wants to burst.

Short circuit.

Stare too long at the rafters.

~ KJ

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