get as still
as you can,
and you may hear,
hidden within
each pulse of breath,
the very next line
to a pledge
of allegiance
which you must have
somehow memorized
very long ago
right down
to every last syllable
and inflection.
And you know
you can't quit while you're
still in the middle;
you are no volunteer
here; this is sheer
conscription. It's like—
every instant
you're alive, there's this
frantic drill sergeant
shrieking at you
with his
repetitious numbers
to keep
the production and pace
of your life
moving smoothly
at the very same
speed all the time—
with no regard at all
for its length
or direction.
