Slow Down Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt

Slow down.
Heart is racing like LSD.
Mind is hurting like a
black sunshine day when
it starts to thunderstorm.

Growing up, we are
informed that our compliance
to the social standards
will save us from misery.
Conform, perform,
put on the acceptable
mask and dance with the
other translucent people
around a cold stone fire.

Undo your jeans.
Let the hidden monster
emerge triumphant from
its zippered prison.
This is what everybody
really thinks about.

This is reality.
What is between your legs?
These images will fuel
your lust and contribute to
the manner of your existing.

Social rules are artificial
blades of glass cutting into
the pursuit of sexual
deviations.

Ignore them as it suits you,
correct them as necessary.

I want to roam around the planet.
Freed from the need
to chase pieces of paper
that
some foolish mortal
ascribed a value to.

Slow down.
The sun will shine,
the moon will emerge,
no matter what
is delivered to your
mailbox.

I want to pretend that
the grip of fear in the mind
is only temporary insanity.