Math. Language. Music. The works.
to think we are born selfish
and take and take for granted
to ask if God is real
and if he's not, demand it
to wonder why we're here
when it was IN the lesson yesterday
to not go to class,
to forget the material
to be an expert anyway
to ask a machine what it means to be human
to paint a picture
yet draw no conclusion
dissatisfied with the position of the filaments
to be afraid
to be abandoned
to break away first
to bleed the most quiet
You hesitate for a few minutes
In cool air conditioned hypnosis
When suddenly you turn the key
A mental gunshot fires—you're free
You stumble across the parking lot
The blistering heat of the concrete is sharp
But thank God for the automatic doors
At the frontmost end of the grocery store
You walk to the shelves one after the other
You're just looking for some smooth peanut butter
But each passing second turns your legs into jelly
Weak and tired and gasping and swelling
You stumble to the one lane open
You're leaning against the counter
And of course the cashier's standing
What, should we just sit on the floor?
You walk or waddle the way to your car
Where there's an oasis, a place to sit
Where the air conditioner catches your breath
And you can drive home from the grocery store
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© 2025 Ethan Alexander Sollenberger