Fish Slough Petroglyph
In My Head
I live in my head.
There is no room
for furniture
in my head
so I stand
and look over my own shoulder
at the road.
I watch myself
as I drive;
I would sit back
and enjoy the trip
but remember
there is no furniture
in my head.
So instead I stand
and watch myself
just to make sure
nothing goes wrong.
I could take a wrong turn,
forget to signal,
neglect to check my mirrors
before passing;
but mostly each day’s
drive is more of the same
so in my head I look up
at the plans for the day,
examining them for any detail
that may be incomplete or incorrect.
It is not easy
living in my head.
Not only must I stand
but even with no furniture
it is cramped and uncomfortable.
I bump into things:
last week’s plans,
already used up;
worries so old
they are now outdated,
of no real use to me anymore;
piles of small considerations
gathering dust
and obscuring my view.
Sometimes a sudden noise or jolt
summons me to the body;
then when all is well
I climb back up,
imagine myself even higher,
up in the crown
of the Statue of Liberty
or in the masthead of a ship
approaching it.
Soon the ride will end
but not before perhaps
I see so far away
the place
I try to reach
each time I drive.
_____________
Philip Kirsch
Review by Jared Pearce
The list of old, used, and worthless in-head items is my favorite bit here, though I do like the consideration of being in Ms. Liberty’s head. I wonder what kind of plans she’s got and what kind of detritus thoughts and memories she’d like to kick?
Review by Carla Schwartz
I really enjoy the premise of this poem, and how it is carried throughout. I love the idea of living in the head, standing up, and feeling cramped and bumping into things. There is humor in being summoned to the body and then climbing back up. And it’s nice that the poem starts with a drive and ends with a drive. And I like how it ends with the view from the head.
Review by Massimo Fantuzzi
So my mind sinks into this immensity:
and foundering is sweet in such a sea. (G. Leopardi, L’infinito.)
The ride of a lifetime. To simultaneously be drivers and passengers, directors, actors and spectators. Metacognition, self-awareness, this way out of routines and automatisms is ultimately the only way of claiming ownership of one’s own time on this ride. Counterintuitively, the dissolving ego of the out-of-body experience and the controlled alienation from reality and from that jumble of mental furniture we call learnt experience are the only ways of reaching our destination in one piece. Our shackles and limitations can finally fall, and one could hope to finally be able to cast an eye over the hedgerow.