Hard to Think, and Blink

Experience will tell you when to start or stop
or modulate response, they say, but
I am like a faulty light bulb in a sconce:
keep going out, must be replaced –
appallingly am always new, without much
clue of what or how to do what I’m supposed
to do: everything’s too fresh for my shock-

weary flesh – which may strike someone
as appealing, but they don’t know what it’s like
to bounce up off the ceiling every time
a switch is tripped: nothing doesn’t flip me
into reeling from another jolt. Electrically,
I am a dolt: must learn to cultivate a whole
new incandescent self for one small

gleam – until the next me’s quickly taken off
the shelf to try to navigate another beam.
Keep getting screwed back into my
encasement, and keep shorting out, to turn
into my next replacement. Here I am
and there I go: another blasting bright
concatenated link. It’s hard to think, and blink.

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