The tree uprooted. Sinister music.
Dangling, helpless, I find myself poised
for action when there is no clear warrant.
Impression is what’s important;
you should be aware that, at any second,
I could pounce into the thick of things,
I could explore the unknown with such
finesse & vigor that it would gladly yield up
its most secretest of secrets to me. Let me fly
through the pale green sky of forgetfulness
& you’d better believe all those hands
that make a clumsy grab for me will have
their fingers printed. I’ll know who’s
taking a swipe at me out of the clouds.
When my errant space pod crash lands
in your new life, watch me burn
the lovely vegetation to the ground, smoke
& cinder & regret wafting.
Night time is when I get like this, always
the most challenging time for me—trying to keep it all
together when I can’t even see myself.
Yellow beams of light projected from an object called the sun
hold me in place; ditto the look of concern on your face.
Willingly, I entered into the giant glass container
of a life with you & you alone. My torment
is that I can see out. I build a ladder one ruin
at a time, each of the one million moments
of shame & rage I feel every day
taking me higher & higher, but never over
the walls I’ve trapped myself behind.