Indoors, trying to escape the sounds,
like the car backfiring down the street, or
the neighbors upstairs that have sex
like Olympic athletes on mescaline. Peaceful
thoughts, quiet thoughts, struggle to enter
my mind, like a derby thoroughbred gassing out
before reaching the first stretch.
I can’t find the quiet place in my head.
Where all the world washes away like driftwood
when the tide rolls in.