Surely, I’d prefer to be bananas.
Surely now I will do it?
Surely now I will destroy your room?
My tantrum will send that shot glass collection
Smashing, clattering, and shattering to meet the hardwood.
Should I attack the laptop you love so much?
Explode the fish bowl I bought you?
-Complete with fish inside, who you have not fed for days-
And still,
Still, not feel satisfied as it flops there,
Gasping for air,
So tragically doomed by my tirade…?
But I stop.
It is at these moments,
With my heart racing
Hands shaking
And breath coming in bursts of uncontrollable wrath-
Like a boiler- ready to combust
To dust:
An explosion of tyrannical wind and fire
A short circuited, smoking wire-
That I stop and think surely,
Surely,
Surely you are crazy?
You would have to be unstable
To say such wildly inconsiderate things
A young man of twenty and yet-
The world exists to you, like a computer does to a monkey.
Surely,
Surely you are crazy?
Then again, why not make me walk through a snow bank
To the back door
Rather than get up,
And let me in the front?
You were comfortable.
Of course-
That does make it okay.
And yes,
Yes, I am crazy for screaming at you
In fact you’re right-
I’m “f***king nuts”
For thinking that you would have grown by now
Grown into knowing …
That after six hours of
Cold, concentrated, restless boredom,
Compacted into walls of cement and mortar-
And sealed off with a coating of undiluted pressure,
That after failing a math test,
Tripping down a mysteriously wet staircase,
After losing my glasses
Nearly missing my bus,
And forgetting all of my History supplies,
That maybe-
I didn’t feel like a trudge through winter wonderland.
Well, I am nuts for thinking that.
Yes-
The whole world is crazy,
And you?
You are sane, competent, and omnipresent
Omni-capable.
You know, I’m starting to think
-As I sit here and watch you laugh hysterically at my fury-
I’d rather think we’re both crazy
Yes, I’ve decided:
I’d much rather imagine us
Off our rocker, attempting to boil a sock…
Attempting to reanimate a cow…
Attempting to walk on a rope for a ‘wow’ crazy.
Because anything would be better than admitting it:
Admitting that this screaming, yelling, swearing, stomping,
Jaw chomping bunch of kids,
Is what we have become.
And these scars?
They are what we have done
With ourselves
From the cringing whip
Of ‘wit beyond measure’
From the jobs, and the pressure…
It is in moments like these,
After long hard days
That I have begun to hate what we have become for each other.
So are we crazy?
Bananas?
Or is this merely what we say
When everything else is a fiery pit?
I guess we’d rather take it out on each other
Then turn to face it.
