Rachel Pollon, telling it like it is, was, might be, she wishes

we tweet

Auto Pilot

I took a nap with my back to the sun
so I could be warmed by it
but not burned.

I sat down next to a stranger
but didn’t engage
so I could
feel the thrill of discomfort
wrapped in a silent cocoon.

I went for a walk in the park
but ran
so I could get to the end more quickly.
I wanted to know the good parts.
I wanted the bow that ties it all up.
Where is my bow?

I took the long way home
so I could be anonymous
I mean autonomous
for as long as possible.

I listened to classic rock on the
radio, then switched it mid-
song to alternative, then soul,
then rubbed my stomach and
patted my head at the same
time while accelerating
through a yellow light.

There are orange cones
everywhere,
construction zones.
I need some for my body.
Under construction,
building for a better tomorrow.

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Tags: autonomy, autopilot, construction, freestyling, orange cones, poem, poetry, running, yellow lights

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