You Are Here

And the day is full
of fallacy (pathetic and otherwise) and thus
were my hours of magical thinking spent
within a demarcation of days and the cockatiel remained
poised in her wire cage hung from the apricot tree
and inside the razors remained
sharp and the lilies did lie and all was quiet
except for the rain as it hit the metal roof
and I did lose faith in myself and was angry
about that and the curtains did hang and crease
and the jackets pegged on silver hooks waited
to be put on and the shoes were silent and the walls
did not move as I thought of my state never to know
who I was only some vague inclination of person-
hood neither daughter nor wife nor friend nor sister
goodbye to all that and the berries did droop under the weight
of yesterday’s rain and the trousers hung on hangers and the shirts
held their form and my breath rose and fell and my fibula remained
solid blood warm and flowing and my heart in its grave
cavern of consistency kept up its rhythmic hum – I am this
machine – a body – thou art always with me
thy skin and thy cartilage they comfort me
even now –  in October – waiting for someone
to choose me for the eternal game of dodge ball
– a tip of the hat, a nod from the bartender a wink
from the waitress – oh ego how I do cleave to thee
thy sermons and thy cravings they comfort me
and I shall dwell in the maze forever.

(Appeared in Cimarron Review)