FLOORBOARD REVERIE

if I were wood I woodn’t
have to dance anymore
I could take it all lying down
beside myself
I’d able to relax with my knots
to remain silent
except for an occasional Zen squeak
to collect particles of dust
let the feet drag and pound against me
without recrimination
not answer the phone
not answer the call of the vagina
not always be filling up and emptying
no blood required
to hell with spelling and grammar
I could study the Klee calendar for decades
fuck the transmission guy
I’d keep it in the same gear permanently
and if some kid gets down on its knees
and starts blabbing at me
I might just snap in my warped way
KO the little bugger with one slap
and then sit back in my slot of oblivion
nobody the wiser