Blame it on the spirit of the time.
You were meant to be a puzzle.
Sweep me out of a revolving whine.
I’ll come back tomorrow with muscle.
I’ll wiggle my flesh instead of burning
my shorts on the first day of Spring.
Tumble out of bed and murder a neighbor.
All to excite and nothing to abhor.
Or calmly realize this world has survived
earthquakes, bombs and meteors.
If you don’t make it something will.
It’s the First Law of Thermodynamics.
But give me empathy not entropy!
Never mind. I’m coming to your party.
Squeezed or spread out I’m bringing a present.
You and I once were and I demand satisfaction!
Let’s Party!
Published in Poetry