Waves of nostalgia washing up on shore
as if I’ve done all this before
ahead of the curve the next big thing
yet so twenty-six years ago
recycling a trend cycle
continuously toeing the line
between broken in and worn out
Waves of nausea sneaking up on me
clouds of perfume overtaking the lobby
close enough to catch a whiff
recycled office building air
conditioned to stand in line
don’t ask questions
go with the flow they want me to go
with what may or may not be so
Waves of inertia surrounding me
coming for to carry me home
keeping things on track
in a rut a holding pattern
complacent stasis status quo
ankling awkward pedal strokes
pushing squares out of the saddle
out of the frying pan and
preaching to the choir
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