Too Much
after William Carlos Williams
I depend on too much and many, 7,000 or so,
leaning on yellow-brick walls, slipping, too much
to bear, handing compliments back like “it depends”.
I deserve to be looked horizontally upon,
not a plea deal, washed with velvet bloodstains upon a
pebbled beach, beached I wail but all that comes out is red
so I metaphorize, teach you how my fortune rolls, a slick wheel.
If my runes tell the story of a lost cause, leave me in my barrow,
I might be a forgotten pharaoh, misadvised ‘til embalmed, glazed
with resin, sticking bandages I could’ve used a lot earlier, bargaining with
a lackey of Death, maybe not the big guy but the one that comes with the rain.
Too much I depend upon, tsunamis made of anything but water,
I crush dreams like sugar pills in the coziest bed, a strange me I lay beside,
hoping that everything I’ve asked for never comes to fruition, planting the
seeds of a garden soiled with flooded wastes, and yet a chrysanthemum shines white,
Just petals above that ruined monolith, every seed I plant a feast for those ravenous chickens.
This is a Golden Shovel poem, utilizing the words of "The Red Wheelbarrow" by William Carlos Williams at the end of each line. I was inspired to write about the overwhelming experiences of high school, using the Golden Shovel format to emphasize the underlying connection we have to simpler times.