i am standing feeling very short
looking at man’s pictures of the gods
i am standing feeling very short
noticing that i cannot even touch the clouds
and as i lie down
my brain reaches my skull
and is claustraphobic
and her cat comes over
so as to comfort my dilemma
so as to say
“it could be worse, you could be cat”
she purrs
as i pet her
and the white walls stand, heavy
defiant
directly in my way
riding this grain of sand through the cosmos
feeling like an ant
i shoe the cat
and my brain, which has been pressed upon my
skull as of late
slows it’s expansion
“oh well, nevermind”
and i let sleep take me
down into the depths of my tiny ant imagination
(4:06 p.m. 7-28-08)
