I’ve always been in the slow lane

on the slow track

because the freeway fights

are not for me

Ferdinand the Bull

smelling the flowers

dreaming of the fast lane

without effort.

I’ve missed high-speed crashes

going places

too fast

where I thought I wanted to go

but given time

to think

I took the turn-off.

There were women

I dreamed about

but I went too slow

and somebody always got there first


I’m thankfully alone

given time, to think for myself

letting others rush

into things.

I watch them

on a slow afternoon

from a safe distance

as they yell and scream in pain

even their compassion is cruel.

Now, I’m not even moving

I’m waiting

and waiting is a delight.

I’ve done things so differently

more intentionally

learning the music I like

wearing clothes two decades old

then buying new ones.

Somehow, not being in a hurry

is a decadent rush

I’m god

watching everyone

go fast

appreciating the details that are never seen.

I didn’t choose to go slow

I just got left behind


delicious desserts and expensive dinners

belong to people who eat prestige.

I see no point in trying to catch up

I talk to the people who’ve been left behind

some are bitter

some are sweet

some are bland

few care

how blessed they really are.

Going slow should be studied in school

but those who go fast

would never slow down for it

they are always trying to fill their minds with facts


my mind is totally empty

like a clear blue sky

on a slow afternoon.

7 thoughts on “A Slow Afternoon

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