How Did I Get Here?

It is odd sometimes how things come to me. It is always from some source that, at face value, has no connection whatsoever.

An unfamiliar face in a crowd will have me asking myself, “Do I have enough life insurance? ”.

Or I will glance at the weather forecast that calls for rain, and it will cross my mind that perhaps I should wear the gray underwear tomorrow.

Or I will smell the earthy smell of freshly overturned, moist dirt and it reminds me of the first time I ever saw a woman naked.

Mind you, these are all very poor examples, but somehow, my brain makes these connections. I cannot explain it. It is as if my mind has been wired with silly-string, through a maze of cracked mirrors by some drunken, misbehaving Mad Hatter, and he is giggling to himself all the way.

I quit trying to understand this a LONG time ago.

With all this being said, Dear and Gentle Reader, I would like to say that this poem was inspired by an article that I read on Thomas Jefferson.

(P.S., this has nothing to do with Thomas Jefferson.)

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You are always looking, always seeking,
Yet never finding.

Questing, shrieking, twirling,
In a way that would make a Dervish dizzy.

You brush my cheek with the gentle touch of a new lover,
Then rip the roof off my house.

I have watched you play with your toys,
Leaves water and trash.

You have seen all there is to see,
No corner of the Earth have you not passed over.

Yet You keep moving on,
Looking for the next new thing, the next horizon.

I find it comforting to lean into You as we walk together,
Until you file Your teeth to points and bite me in the ass when it turns cold.
Fickle, fickle wind,
Do You treat all of Your admirers this way?