having a moment
the trees overhanging the people standing around.
"i’ve been wrestling with this one," i said.
i was all sweaty but no one could see me,
could anyone see me?
my face was on fire.
on the doorstep
the neighborhood children gathered,
"liar liar liar!"
where was my hidey-hole?
i got up, crawled out from the lids.
i was bodhisattva or messiah
or bigger idiot.
i went to work and died.
it wasn’t surprising, all right.
a continuum of nothing echoed inside.
i performed half-asleep,
wanting to be called out—
waiting to be called out.
i found a book on the ground.
i opened it.
there i was, in the figurative sense,
leading my flock to an oasis to find it dried.
then i knew myself with my hand.
i heated up lobster bisque in the microwave
and ate only half.