A Fool’s Journey

by Anna Breslin

City blocks never comment
on my misplaced
commas and run-on sentences
as my mind wanders
through its discursive narrative.

My feet stumble
across the wavy cobblestones
that give me just
enough space

to get lost in my mind’s
fascination with itself
while avoiding
my body’s fear of tripping.

Today’s walking thoughts
consist of a kind of blue
retrospective
on numbness.

Days of marriage,
suit-wearing,
beaten down
by twisted truths
it took me too long
to see,

except like Cassandra,
I knew everything that
would happen and ignored
my own warnings.

I beat myself up
for playing the fool,
still.

I know, deep down,
that’s who I am.

Maybe I should own it,
celebrate it
in a howl,
I am a f o o l!

My soul agrees
in a ringing echo.

I can’t trust my feet
to make their way across
these sidewalks
without double-checking
on them

and I could not trust
myself enough to listen
to my prescient gut
when it count.

I never can trust
the person I know
best of all
for I know her deep
and many flaws.

As pieces of my ego
crumble to the curb,
I walk faster so no one
sees how I didn’t clean up
after myself.

 

© 2019, A. Breslin. All Rights Reserved

 

Image credit: Numerology Sign CC BY 2.0

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