Choose

I am not a mindless automaton 
I thank god, I thank fuck,
Fuck that is the beginning of all things.
I am not a mindless automaton
and my mind wanders
when I smell her perfume
drifting across the room
or dancing around my neck. 
The breeze releases me from silence
and I remember
the natural form of my shoulders
my hips
and my eyes relax for humanity.
I stop and fall down
and instead of getting up
I might lay for a while
until I feel the earth under my nails
and the day has changed colour
and the people have eaten a meal
and some god has been thanked
and some innocent has been educated
and some unity has been made
and I have been filled with breath.
I am not a mindless automaton
and I desire a new taste in my mouth
and a texture that will repudiate my senses.
Though I have thorns in my side and citrus
in my wounds
I seek no revenge,
I balance with their lack of remorse
and we fill the space where a relationship might be
with interest in other things.
I am no mindless automaton
and in the lane I notice
the broken bottles
and the ants scurrying home
and one lonely glove
and I notice a puddle of piss
that surely belongs to the man shuffling ahead of me
with the torn green plastic jacket.
I am no mindless automaton
and I can pause where ever I choose.