wear cotton my boy
told me this morning.
discovery channel thoughts on staying
safe in the sky.
squishing down the narrow aisle
to an empty seat,
i fold carefully in on myself.
elbows & knees shifting gingerly
in that tall, invisible, rectangular box.
rows & rows of mime wannabees
lined up for the show.
grinning out the little double paned
plastic window.
searching mother's skin for secret
messages left behind.
spying over metal bird.
soon i am swimming amongst jelly
fish clouds.
wispy tendril glow dragging through
blue sky seas.
her skin is so smooth.
and if i licked it,
maybe it would be like licking
a salt block.
...tasty smooth warm roughness.
some homes have chiseled square
sections into her skin.
deep chunks of flesh cut around
the dwellings.
marring her flesh, altering perfection,
like the ear of a cow or the tail
of a dog.
some homes are like raindrops.
falling quickly & splattering
into the earth.
microscopic explosions throwing
muddy droplets into the air.
...center clearing, fading &
blurring into her skin.
puerility sits behind me.
grumpy, angry man maybe needing
a nap.
needing to close his old watery
blue eyes,
he kick & figits, gnashing
his teeth,
aiming his anger at me.
and i smile & look into his
glaring eyes.
fear blows stale & sour on
old white man words.
my arms & legs akimbo, jutting
out of the noble savage mold he's trying to back me into,
...i frighten him, and it makes
me laugh!
racing across blue tundra,
side by side with hoards of buffalo,
elephants & other beasts
that can only find names in the
unfettered mind of a child.
dropping shadows on the earth.
wild stampede without plumes of
choking dust.
shrinking, i am sinking back down,
down into reality.
staggering down chutes.
such a long way to come in distance
& technology,
to walk like cattle on auction
day.
minds focused only on the end of
the tunnel,
and emerging to a face full of
sun. |
