The Customer

I returned my chemistry 
to the Store yesterday.

I don’t want this, I said.
It doesn’t fit me.  
It’s too big.

They tried to argue with me
but in the end they conceded
that the customer is always right
and I left the Store with a new chemistry.

Put it in and what do you know,
my brain stopped with the yammer,
yammer.  I recognized everyone
as divine.  Suddenly, I liked my eggs
over easy and when I got home
I threw away the clutter on the desk,
all those pages that have weighed me down
by being unfinished and in plain view.
Now all I’ve got to look at
is a clear desk and orderly shelves
of all the books I’ve completed.

I can’t say I’m genuinely relieved;
I’d say the feeling is more
like sitting in my childhood bedroom
looking at model cars I glued together once
and asking myself,

who the heck was that kid
with the patience for such things?