I lost it in a moment
became a strong proponent of a personal atonement,
but all I found was the exponents of sin
and then
when I discovered the singed twin within me,
there was no way to spin it -
and my car collided with the hint of a guardrail,

but that all pales in comparison
to the poisonous medicine of time
that cloaks itself in transition
from Silverstein to Tennyson, or if you'd rather, Dickinson,
but all the same, it kills us,

and leaves us just
a hip hop drop-it-like-it's-hot pop rock hot shot
and running
and jumping the fences -
hiding from the tenses -
from the will be, is, and has been
'cuz they've shattered my defenses -
left me grown, but still pretentious
pretending that I am when I barely even have been.

The world lies before me like a shattered piece of glass -
reflecting, refracting the future in the past
and they think I know the answers,
but I haven't even asked the questions.

And I wake up and listen to a wool pad against a cheese grater
and brew a potion of coupons from the refrigerator - 
never smelling the caramelized onions that linger on the air from last night's chili
and I can't help thinking
if adulthood is the dependence upon being depended upon,
then childhood taste a lot like laziness.

And like irretrievable water through the drain of my fingers
or one of Mr. Feeny's lectures
or the innocent lyrics I ascribed to all those rap songs,
it is gone.

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