Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Seat Belt

I’m tied up. The culprit:
the law of the heart
but not
a figment of my mind.
Glued to the seat,
I give in to this power
I can’t control.
Across my shoulder
strapped, I tap
on the keyboard,
for I’m locked in place
with zest and abandon,
and echoing inside my head,
a poem forces me to write it.