it holds me by the ankles, it brands
its name into my skin,
i cannot shake it off or reason with it.
i am fettered in wooden keys, in parts,
in compasses and rulers,
in drafts and plans and goals;
it enslaves me, it whispers to me
promises, successes, admirations.
i am driving down a dirt road at night
with a cinderblock on the gas pedal
and a headlight out
and no warning of the next curve and no idea
where i am headed or how fast i am headed there
all i know is that if i take the cinderblock off
i will never be able to start the car again.
i will walk.