Self Service

I lack the patience recorded voices 

thank me for having. They ought to thank me

for not erupting into various

least favored selves of which there are plenty.

Let me show you one if you have time,

as the disembodied voice claims I must. 

After all, actions speak into megaphones.

Listen to my nature take its course,

a course I am teaching to the force 

unwittingly with you, embedded

in your greenhorn new norm fluted with 

sturm und drang rodeo magenta 

clothing closing in on the rapture riptide

sentencing me to tend rose hued impatiens.