Two-Headed Sanity
Knowing I can get caught up
in anxiety, I don’t believe I’m
deranged or delusional, much
as I am, much as Del has always
been short for it, delusional, but
do I know deep down any real
reason for my name to elongate
into any further complexity? I’m
Del, in Spanish the combination
of preposition and article. Oh,
how I’ve angled for more depth,
more mystery, more than just
those one or two levels before
the game is over. But as I was
suggesting, I do think my head’s
placed firmly upon these shoulders.
It may be a bit wobbly with age,
but within it are the ringing alarm
bells being hyperbolic? I truly
hope so. A clean objectivity
comes and goes, I suppose,
when dealing with one’s inner
workings. But it does seem to
me that if ever there were a time
to act, if ever there were a moment
when having a contingency plan on
top of a backup plan might be a
feasible mode of existence….
I keep looking at clocks. I haven’t
worn a watch in years. Outside,
people are banging on doors, walls,
shouting obscenities. Does it raise
my anxiety even further? It does. I’ve
saved some money. Haven’t traveled,
even outside of my fair San Francisco in,
what, over nine years? Common Sense,
keep speaking with that soothing
voice. I listen, nodding my head,
as all in as I get. Yes, yes. I think
you’re right. Let’s not make it ten.
