To Speed Up, You Should Slow Down First Poem by Patti Masterman

If only poetry could be poured out
Like omelettes come out of iron skillets,
Like eggs fall out of chickens,
Like one night stands fall us out of love;
Instantly.

Nothing kills poetry like planning,
Nothing kills chickens like assembly lines,
Or one-time dates, like lack of impulse control.

Once I pushed the emergency stop button;
It was huge and red, almost glowing,
And everything else stopped, too
Even the talking-
While the stoned guy just stared at me in shock,
That I had actually done it.

If you don't want buttons pushed,
You shouldn't leave them poking out all over the place,
If you don't want to be hurt,
You shouldn't make yourself into a walking wound:
Shrapnel doesn't care whose skin get nicked.

And it's easier to shave with your own razor at home,
In front of your own mirror-
Without the background soundtrack of shrieking.