Ode to Asperger's (Revision 2)

[Leah S.]

The world's too close, and never safe, or plain.
I want to tell you what it's like out there --
beyond my door--- it's chaos and old pain. Feels as though 'old' is there just to achieve meter count
Suppose I want to drive; I hunch and bear
the shrieking metal door of my garage, 'bear? as in carry it?
then tense as nylon webbing scrapes my neck.
I breathe in deep, but nothing can assuage
the itch; already I'm a twitching wreck. I'm not convinced by 'the itch' - you've called it chaos and old pain

I note each floor-strewn leaf and piece of trash,
and still I haven't put the car in gear,
distracted by a rattle in the dash;
a squeak somewhere that I can barely hear.
In rapid train I catalogue the smells: 'rapid train' doesn't work for me
exhaust; the dog; a spilled essential oil;
damp wool; deodorant. My nose rebels
against the random mix, and I recoil. Good use of sounds and scents
The water spots displayed on side-view glass Not sure what 'side-view glass' is.
make ornamental patterns on the scene
as I back out the drive. Before I pass,
a dozen things insist on being seen:
a crushed McDonald's cup; a ziploc bag;
a plastic GI Joe; a toddler's sock;
a trail of antifreeze; a greasy rag;
the lug nut from a wheel; a broken lock.
Before I've gone a mile, a hundred more:
(not only what I see, but what I hear)
the roar of inbound jets that shake my core,
the blasting hiss of brakes beside my ear.
I'm just ten minutes on the way – time flies
as dread accumulates a tidal wave
built of impending hands and mouths and eyes
of people I don't know. I must be brave.
My confidence convinces even me,
(at least it's done so in the recent past)
and so I carry on, intrepidly –
but even though I try, I'm just half-assed. this contradicts the line 'my confidence convinces even me'
My heart's not in it, so when I arrive
I sidle in the door, avoiding every eye You lost your iambic pentameter in this line - two too many syllables
and weaving through the crowd. Furtive, I strive and this line - stress should be FURtive
to put my back against the wall and spy Not keen on the enjambment here

out my escape. I never can remember things I said: four extra syllables here
each time, before the end, I find I'm wishing I were dead. and here

A good view of the world experienced by a dysfunctional person. I think you've padded out your poem with excess words just to achieve the required meter though. Thanks for posting this.

"out there" is where "chaos and old pain" is. It's supposed to be a riff on 'chaos and old night.' Obviously it didn't work.
'bear' as in 'endure.'
"side view glass" = side-view mirror. That's actually a place I was forcing the meter though.
The "itch" is from the seat belt strap on my dysfunctional neck. Sounds like that didn't work either.
The last two lines are supposed to have seven feet..... I'm not keen on the preceding enjambment either.
Sounds like I need to be even more descriptive about the process of suffering through the sensory overload of the sound of my garage door, the textures and smells in the car, the detritus on the road while backing out, and the traffic while driving to a social event which required mustering my courage, even if in a rather half-assed way. If I fix the enjambment, can I get away with a couplet with seven feet to end an ode? I couldn't get much information on the structure of odes.
I'm already working on a revision....seems most fixable so far.

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I pretty much go along with mercedes' technical critique; it's the diagnosis that bothers me.

You're describing "attention deficit disorder", not "Asperger syndrome".

Sorry to disagree: see 'sensory overload' and 'intense world' theory. People on the spectrum (like me) often see every detail of the world around them vividly and in a very immediate and intense way. It can produce extreme distress, but it's a result of not being able to stop paying attention to every little tiny detail of every single thing, not a 'deficit' in attention.