I am A Portent and I Will Follow You with My Eyes by Benjamin Van Loon The human intention to be unimaginative. Oh, to be appealed. To move closer to the lunchroom. To be the best minds for the ages. To be side. To be a poor kid. To be his body. To be solved by thine own. To be in one leg of her jeans. To be a little less uncouth. To place the Servant of All in a rental car with heated seats. To have control of my renal system. To not be able to see the rest of the road. To disappear entirely. To succumb to complications of long, painful therapy sessions. To be gnarly trees. To be stopped in the middle of a roundabout. To be me rather than you. To be the giver of religious orders. To be a problem child. To be astonished at the oracle. To appeal to the young. To be sure. To live here, mister, sitting at my brown table studying photographs of ripped eats. To live in that little house. To not hear him come in. To rub out the lives of young technicians. To district. To learn of it at the capital. To be the owner of a proud little Viennese bracelet shop on the side of the road. To be where he had stood. To apprise wet boughs. To tap a great empire. To be in my own right. To have wives lay across the car’s hood. To have empires. To be a treetop. To collect my inklings in a jar labeled ‘The Beginning of Modern Times.’
Benjamin van Loon is a poet, writer and communications professional from Chicago, IL. View more of his work online at benvanloon.com.