quarantined thoughts


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.

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