In leaping from rooftops
I lost my childhood
Pretending I could jump
The distance of Neruda's nature
I would imagine myself leggy
Never falling into prickly bush or overgrowth
In passing homes in the dark
I found my loneliness
Knowing I could be inside there
Hugging Dostoyevsky, the stranger
Filled with horse hair and moth holes
Actually filled with holes
After I staged my first shenanigan
The joy sucked out from the audience's eyes
I folded up the shanty set
Told Hemingway to sock me one good time in the face
Retreated into the folds of the curtain
And I've been there ever since
--
8.3.10
I lost my childhood
Pretending I could jump
The distance of Neruda's nature
I would imagine myself leggy
Never falling into prickly bush or overgrowth
In passing homes in the dark
I found my loneliness
Knowing I could be inside there
Hugging Dostoyevsky, the stranger
Filled with horse hair and moth holes
Actually filled with holes
After I staged my first shenanigan
The joy sucked out from the audience's eyes
I folded up the shanty set
Told Hemingway to sock me one good time in the face
Retreated into the folds of the curtain
And I've been there ever since
--
8.3.10
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