Wheels for Feet

they used to say rat race

kids preschool through junior high

running around the room like

mad pigs off a cliff

that’s what this feels like

staying between the lines but

hurtling through space carries its own

exhilaration

speed

I don’t know if it means I’m running toward or

away from something

do races have a point?

winner, loser, everyone in between

forgotten

some have sports cars made in this century

imagine

power of twisting between and around

lost in the single drive the one

incentive I can’t explain

it wasn’t meant to be a race

but somehow it is

why?

meaning?

purpose?

fulfilment?

Why are we missing all those things in the first place

first place

the car melts away and we’re left with our bare 

humanity

metal stripped away

powerless but for thumping feet

that grow into thunder

little sounds cause big emotions

I can’t focus

I can’t get ahead

Until suddenly the race track drops off

steep cliff

the rich get richer

eat the rich

kings, eaters of men

Homer?

no matter his wit Odysseus will always be snared 

by Calypso

but does he give up>

we run and in running

– toward home?

– away from our minds?

we find solace