What if…
Just what if my head exploded? Imploded?
Ridiculous images lying on the floor or compressed-
A blood red diamond
Valueless.

There’s no reason to rhyme. What if
No one likes that meter or phrasing,
Not even me?
It’s not a crime, just a personal preference anyway.

But what if a tree attacked my car?
And I was in it? And the bark rhymed with the gear
Jammed into park? And it was only amusing
Before the fact…

?

There are never enough blankets
Or buckets of ice water. Don’t question me on that.
I’ll just ask what if
In a primitive tongue, cold and dry.

What if I prefer prose to poetry?
What if I prefer death to life?
What if
What I say
Does not matter? And what if
I think it does?

When my head is no more
And the poetry is all gone,
Keep the bark off my grave
Cuz I’m thirsty.
Keep your what ifs to yourself,
No one cares anyway.

©Jen2011 5-17