I like a mission,
a purpose to my errands
that infuses them
with tenacity.
A white frame
in an odd size
a travel alarm clock
not made in China
a second-hand anything
in chartreuse.
I am aware
this hunting is a symptom
of brewing discontent,
an escape
a release
a suspension
of the deeper me.
But it is consuming
all the same
in a strangely
breathless
euphoric
way.