I Drum My Nickname

A/N: Inspired by Andrew Boyd, author of Life’s Little Deconstruction Book; Self-help for the Post-Hip

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I will wind with the swerves

Dedicate my instincts to your humanized self

Drum my nickname on the universe

And try to exploit necessity

With every fingertip cell, every calloused verb

Diverting and skirting to edges of conflicts

Wars without soldiers and crumbs upon carpets

I will uniform

Immortalize with my marrow, with my fiber

Demanding performance

And each pillar, each proverb

Each prophet turned to superlative statue

Will hang on my wall in utter resentment

As I decide the unequivocal

I will expand the marbles

Decorate the paranoia with buoyancy

And stretch parabolas with practiced ease

Idolizing blurry televisions

With their static buzz, their robot-chatter

I will invent hysterics

Blur the boundaries and cliffhangers

With brittle contemplation flailing at my heels

Idealizing envy and recreating recreation

I will convert my stranger self

Memorizing verses from books

That shiver with mortal desperation

My skull lacks the comprehension of idiosyncrasies

So they shake as I fail to give them life

I will detonate

Impede the strike of hilarity that upturns me

Blossoms and ripens without effort

Hideously stunning and unabashed

I will determine the inevitable

Crush the faith with a snap of friction

Like monotonous barks failing to see the distinction

Coveting the grievously enthused heredity

And cat-lashing the disgruntled for their glory

I will be blind

Conditioned to chemicals that unearth off-handedly

Nonchalant and unadjusted

Discarding inability like sand in an hourglass

Resident never and equipped nevertheless

I will understand the habitual

Nomadic packages with strings that speak of fundamentals

Screaming in their self-assuredness

That they were, are, and always will be unalterable

The fluid of their existence inexistent

As I tolerate the inconceivable with mankind’s crowded words.

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