the identity crisis poem is late

...due to a recent identity crisis. life imitates art.

song for the identity crisis

            --best to read while listening to this.

on the day of my identity crisis, none of the downtown

traffic lights were working

the parking ramp was filled with horns perpetually

honking

in a chorus of monoxide panic

trapped animals confused and frantic

on the day of your identity crisis

it’s not going to be much different

on the day that i lost all sense of self and continuity

couples were rollerblading down the greenway

and scattered along the route were bronze boots

inexplicably fused to benches

were they meant to be creative expression

or a function to give bums some hesitation

on the day you lose all sense of self and continuity,

you might need a place to sleep

and when the spring melts the frost from this blood

things will get positively manic

like jets of contaminated water

pouring from dozens of hydrants cleaved in two

filling the gutters with sweat and retch

moving at a speed few could ever catch

on the day of your identity crisis,

we’ll see just how fast it comes.