Vice Versa

I think different thoughts than what I thought I’d be thinking
because, well, I don’t know why.
I try to look here but I look there;
I have trouble sitting for standing.
And vice versa.
I especially have trouble trying to interpret what I heard from the flower I tried to smell.
I notice the especially fragrant fragrance my friend is wearing when I try to smell what she is saying.
As I begin to jog, I realize that you don’t get home fast when you jog,
especially if you’re riding a bicycle.
Then, when I finally get somewhere other than where I was going —
I slow down and hurriedly take a drink of Ham and Cheese,
then I take a small bite of milk.
Suddenly, I realize how clean I feel:
so I lay down in the sink to take a shower and wash my water off with soap.
Then I wipe my dry skin with a soaking wet towel.
So, I crawl across the ceiling to the kitchen and turn off the light.
Or is it my bedroom?
Then I close my skull with my feet.
Or vice versa.
I close it like a large green Samsonite.
Then I take out my brain and set it on the table in front of me.
Not vice versa.
Suddenly I realize that my mind had a mind of its own.
I quickly dispense of my worries, knowing that I’ll be better off without them.
And it.
Besides, it wanted to be free.

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