The Kaleidoscope

When you stop to wonder
'What the fuck am I doing here?'
It's like opening a can of snake-filled peanut brittle
the practical joke kind
green mesh wires jump out
taking you by surprise.
the complete random unpredictability,
the twists and turns of a preconceived yet untold plot,
drives you down tree-lined lanes.
pollen slowly rises
gets caught like wool clouds
in the back of your throat.
the questions make your eyes water
propel you to walk down white industrial aisles
fluorescent bulbs casting
an eerie pharmaceutical glow
to create a flow
artificially unblocking, releasing
the backlog of shit
that has made your days a haze.
slowly removed, just hovering above
like a fly sitting pretty on a lamp post
staring into the dull monotony below.
the constant hum, a distant beat
the sound of slow, but continuous movement
as people go to refill prescriptions,
pick-up neatly pressed white shirts,
clip the grocery list on a steel cart,
squeeze into a crowded car at rush hour,
forgetting to stop and wonder,
to gaze at the questions
that slowly arrange and re-arrange
as the kaleidoscope clicks
colors and shapes shift.