When a speck exists in the universe
and infinity intrudes into your head
and you know that you are the speck,
it is hard to drive the post into the ground
between you and someone else.
When the earth rumbles
and your anxiety rumbles too,
it’s hard to delineate the differences
between myself and between you.
When I walk out into the street
and the throngs and crowds are like swarms
of people dying to
drink some coffee, or make some impact
upon the other throngs and swarms,
one is easily amused
by the futile desperation
to influence me,
to influence you,
to walk upon the concrete
that will easily confuse
To think you can diffuse
the tension then, the tension now–
to think the heat inside the dome
that constitutes your skull
or the big wide world
will blister me–
Spare me, please– don’t be so dull.
We’ve been through this
again and again
Upside-down, and around
and around again.
Lying on your twin-sized bed,
staring at the ceiling
filled with asbestos and muffled sobs
crying that sometimes you wish you were dead,
you are the speck.
You are the swarm.
You are the throngs of crowds and crowds of people
moving steadily along.
Janni’s favorite hobby is writing. If you want to contact her, do so at email@example.com