I knew that my shiny new smile would be smothered by the time November rolled around.
It was the month where everything green froze over into a gray mess of melancholy,
and bombarded us with rumors of the return of the swine flu.
The month where there was no one to turn to,
because everyone was turning into themselves.
People used to think that the rats that couldn’t navigate a maze were the dumb ones,
but it turns out they’re just the scared ones.
I wonder if the bravest rats are smart enough to make it all the way out of the lab,
and I wonder how many of them are fed up with science.
December made me think about how I’d like to live only on berries
and the mercy of strangers.
I’d like to trust the things I know least about,
so that my disappearance will be attributed to naivete
rather than cowardice.
Now we’ve fallen further to the first month,
wound up with whispers of fresh starts and fast fixes,
but still my new year’s neurotransmitters could use a kick in the teeth.
I need some firing-up in the dilapidated lump between my ears, so
I went to the doctor for a big ol’ shot of dopamine,
but he told me I should start swallowing some off brand benadryls.
I had to tell him I’m not allergic to the world
I’m just too in love with it.
I think I’ll just switch to a multivitamin and sit tight ‘til spring.