The Idiot

An idiot makes the same mistake twice.

That “fatherly advice” is trapped
within my head,
bouncing back and forth,
causing a headache,
but who’s to say that
the mistake isn’t the cause
of pulsating temples and closed eyes.
In one ear and out the other,
one could hope for.
But these days it’s in
one nostril and down the throat.
Down “Shit’s Creek” in a soluble boat.

But don’t call home.
The heart left.
The telephone has been off the hook–
inanimate objects have it easy.

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