“What if?”

Don’t listen to me or the things I say. Thoughts are static misfirings and I’m whatever happens in between. You would not get upset at lighting for striking- I’m also at the mercy of me. 

God asked “What if I stuck a clown in a traffic jam?” Now I have the pleasure of being whatever this is; neurons rattling loosely inside my head – the sound of playing ping pong on pan drums and a heckling, cackling crow. 

An eternal game of chess against myself. What if I win? What if I lose?