bifurcation

in the office building a spreadsheet 
last two weeks of two and a half years here
hasta la vista terminated
entering digits and recalling lyrics 
hold that number firm for five more seconds 
whatever paintings flit in front of it
later i’ll play the drums 
right hand ride, left foot hat, left hand snare, right foot kick
head swirling about 
splitting always splitting the soul

i start up my Buick and head down the hill to walk the dog 
and the sun is and isn’t obscured and this song from Status Quo pounds
(April), Spring, Summer and Wednesdays
just the right tempo with just the right space 
between ultra-course bar chords and cutting hi-hat
power restrained, felt more than seen 
and as these seasons try to occupy the same space like numbers and paintings 
whisps of steam breathe from the too-warm wet blacktop 
my sedan cuts right through 
and i wish i was behind me 
to watch them split and curl
clearcut car-wide between