A is For
I.
It begins as a thought that
sparks across the space between
each ear, and I have to hunt it down,
dash wild around my brain until
I pounce and catch it,
stuff it back behind
some garbage about
meditations and breathing and
bending and dieting and
associating and non-attachment.
II.
Oh – damn – cynicism
doesn't work, let's consider
this thought slightly more:
it's babbling about the future,
fanatic dissections of moments
that become millisecond snapshots
in which I smile, speak, listen,
associate, feel, feel, keep feeling
and the thought is spinning fast
enough I hardly remember
the next step.
III.
Breathe, that's right, we always
need to keep this consistent,
coherence is what I strive to make
adherence to –
says the old man in the leather chair,
his knees bent, my hands kneading;
suddenly I find myself thinking
about oxygen when certain people
speak to me about next year,
“Yes? Excuse me, I need oxygen.”
IV.
The next step, positive association
finding feelings to pour down my spine
in accordance with the booklets I read
and the cassette tapes listened to
about breathing and associating,
bringing me away from the thought,
in order to stop the chase,
the duck and cover, freeze,
breathe, associate dance
that is cognitive therapy.
V.
Oh – damn – back to cynicism,
down into the doubt that's craftier
than the cheery booklets and cassettes
that tell me the value
of a slow heart rate.
This means neuroticism
will remain rampant –
what advice can I give?
Children, don't be born
with a badly built brain.
