Next - Craig Kirchner

I am still running,

I’ve been running all my life,

literally, physically,

haven’t run anywhere

in over a decade,

but still rushing,

to nowhere specific,

just needing to be at

the next somewhere else.

As a kid I ran everywhere,

Evil Knievel on my bike.

Church was out,

school was terrible,

sitting for hours,

feigned hall passes, acted up,

just to take the walk to the office,

like a greyhound waiting for the bell,

any rabbit to chase.

Home, parents, sister were all great,

couldn’t wait to get out,

away from, to the alley, the park,

any new pillow, the next new neighborhood.

I can print, like I walk,

but I scribble,

chasing that next thought,

before it runs away, before it

tries to vault the Grand Canyon.

A publisher told me

I had ADHD,

needed to slow down,

said I should set it aside

for a day, maybe two days,

come back with a fresh outlook,

a new perspective.

I left him quickly,

thinking if only it were that simple.

Originally published by Floyd County Moonshine, Winter 2023

Craig Kirchner is retired and living in Jacksonville. He loves the aesthetics of writing, has a book of poetry, Roomful of Navels, and has been nominated three times for a Pushcart. Craig's writing has been published in Chiron Review, Main Street Rag, The Modern Artist and dozens and dozens of others. He houses 500 books in his office and about 400 poems on a laptop; these words help keep him straight. Craig can be found on Bluesky