That Boa Morning

A Knock on the Brain

     Another thump on the head with my own hands. That bad thought, OUT! Look what you did there, YOU IDIOT. To have been there and felt what you felt and did what you did, I throw a strike. These hits have been frequent these past few months. They started with light finger taps. Since then they've grown more pronounced. It's not just bad things that call for the bat. Something that once was good, left alone, deteriorates into a ruin that stands to rot above ground. I see it. I know how it hurts. With what do I answer? This: a hard palm direct to the temple. That replacement I then feel. The shock of it doggy-paddling through the brain. That, a hit. Then dizziness. My eyes loosen, looking nowhere. Swim. Swim. I could sink if I hit hard enough. I ought to be more careful. But I don't want to be reminded of the stupid and the sad. So hit, so it goes away.