The Guts of Dexter

you find yourself falling apart like wooden blocks
toppling over your self

you don’t know if this is the norm
or if this is an experience completely unique to you

you were in a car eight hours down the pacific coast highway
but you missed it all you slept so hard

your body is constantly reinventing itself
checking scars is a good way to make certain you are still alive

very similar to lucid dreaming
we all need something to ground us

something to yell at us that we’re okay when we find ourselves in a wind tunnel

if god is real then i think they’re probably suffering like all of us
their garbled brain gone schizophrenic
multiple personality disorder as they try to decide which human reflection of them is correct
post traumatic stress disorder from watching city after city fall
like wooden blocks toppling over themselves

your heart is a parakeet at best
some kind of mid-sized bird in a shoebox

you don’t really see any of this coming you’re so busy buying better shoes

you’re exhausted you don’t allow yourself to see it until you get stress sick
and you find yourself hopped up on dayquil watching people’s court and price is right

you start to wonder if you should be your self as you find yourself older each day and still single
asking your self am i that one individual milk jug at the back of the fridge at work?

eternally stuck restless half frozen past expiration waiting for some magic warm hand to grab you
your feet fall asleep as you balance on the strange telephone wires of time

asking yourself had someone not told me i’m good with people would i be in customer service?
if i didn’t excel at mathematics would i have any interest in being a mathematician?

you’re like a swan boat maybe, with a hole in it
a tiny hole on the underbelly

not enough to capsize you but definitely enough to make things uncomfortable
enough to make you feel bad for the attention that you require to continue to float

you shouldn’t feel bad
god is somewhere counting change to see if they can get themselves a rodeo burger before payday

we’re all just ditzing around and there’s a few of us who really think we’ve nailed it
but those people’s houses could get hit by tornados

or sometimes they get crushed beneath the extreme illusory weight that the stack on their chests
i’m not blaming them i’m just saying we’re all the weird green potato chip somedays

i’m just saying if you figure out what normal looks like please draw me a diagram or make a pie chart or cast some sort of line out because i’m starting to settle down on the idea that it most likely just doesn’t exist and that pretending that there is an answer is probably the best way to destroy riding this question out until our inevitable descent into the guts of Dexter, the turtle that someday will swallow us all

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2017