hedges

I want to float on the lake
and hear the city buzz by
instead of this fly
trapped in my car
We’ve both made a wrong turn
this time

In my brain
I rearrange
the signs to spell benign
though I’m inclined
to engage in acts more outrageous
than partially blinding myself

I pull down the visor against
the light of insight
begrudging better judgement
I think of you in small doses
half of a half of a half
to the impossible measure
where a breath’s breadth from the treasure
I’ll lunge fully into you
and again misconstrue
all your eyes implored
until I’m lost once more

And if only my wages
were as high as the hedges
the man in the Hendrix shirt trims
Then I’d know how to fix
this mess I’m in
Instead I wonder why the rich
have streets with no sidewalks or names
And if my accent is as lame
as the woman on my phone
directing me home
when I’d rather stay lost just the same

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