i had my thoughts in quarantine
but somehow they got out
and now they’re loose on the town
and moving about
and if you feel anxious
you best keep away
six feet or so
because i don’t know what they’re gonna say
they might appear peaceful
or red eyed and wild
they might be reproachful
or playful like a child
they might be flamboyant
they might be demure
they might be sickened with the truth
while looking for a cure
they might walk in with a swagger
and promise you the moon
or may be sitting quiet
in the back of the room
they might be kind,
catatonic and wise
they might be naked to the world
or wearing a disguise
they might be strangled by worry
or stricken by grief
humble like a beggar
or shameless like a thief
they might strike like a tiger
or jump like a bunny
they might be too serious
or just kinda funny
they might be persuasive
saying, why don’t you try it
they might be contagious
and spread like a riot
they might get to gambling
beguiled by luck
they might be feeling reckless
and just not give a fuck
they might be boisterous
they might be serene
they might be thinking i like the way your mouth moves
but i don’t know what you mean
they might be clairvoyant
but blinded by pride
or maybe just shy
but confident inside
they might not conform
they might not agree
they might not always be
what you want them to be
they might be ambivalent
they might be morose
they might be talking crazy
like they’ve seen the holy ghost
they might be speaking Spanish
like como anda Cartagena
soy muy guero
pero me encanta la morena
tengo mucho hambre
pues, trae me una cena
no importa la cuesta
porque se vale la pena
they might be at a party
chatting with de ja vu
and thinking you look familiar
or who the fuck are you
they might be searching for meaning
in the writing on the wall
within the magnitude of a moment
that feels so small
they might be apprehensive
or whimsically unsure
when the carousel’s moving backwards
and all your memories start to blur
they might be imbued
with words of eloquence
or slurring drunkenly
and not making any sense
they might have one hand on the wheel
of a jacked-up Ford
they might be down on their knees
supplicating the Lord
they might have the walk of a martyr
dressed up as a fool
trespassing quietly
to use your swimming pool
they might be given to fancy
or swept by happenstance
and the whims of the winds
that let the leaves dance
or they might just be consciousness
as it rains
collecting in your gutters
and washing down your drains
and what about you thoughts
do they ever stray?
and where might they go
and what might they say
and what if, by chance
our thoughts should happen to meet
just wandering along
out there on the street?
Greg Alston is a gardener, cook, father and some other things, too.
