My Nonsense

I search for someone who enjoys listening to my nonsense

and whose nonsense I like

When a bug flies around my room at 3:34 in the morning

Frantic and fluttery and flitting and flying

Thrashing

And then dies

Berates the edge of my computer and crumbles to the floor just over there

Exhausted

and dead

I want to call this person about what I just experienced

About how a bug, a large, ugly, bug, that I didn’t want

that was trapped in my room, in my space, in the prison belonging to me

drove itself to death looking for a way out or its purpose or food

And about how when it died, part of me, well, I don’t know

I felt something

Something great and ancient about this dead bug on my carpet

I wish I could call this person

Talk to them about it, understand it through them

Figure out why this lifeless mass a yard away from me puts a feeling in my chest

But I haven’t found this person yet

So I can’t

And instead I’m here with my words

Hoping to rid this feeling

Without any chance of understanding

A chance that I can’t, or won’t give myself

(a breath)

I want someone who wants my nonsense

time passed

it is now 4:12

the bug flew away