Highs & Lows

If all I have to give you
is this, then you aren’t
what I wanted. My wall a
rubber band, I’m shattered.
The paper-mâché meteor spills
a river that used to think
of us; nothing is scarier
than animals in moonlight,
mirror in the bathroom,
what do you want from me.
We’re not sleeping, not
dancing and rations from
the basic barricade confirm
immaculate cities need it
just the same. You unfortunate,
remembered, animal holding
pines, sing at will, take me to
the public library, a lot.
Put me in your hand and
row, right here, touch here:
touch clear and touch clock,
enjoy your microwave.
Rise up, wind, show us
what you see. It could
be the ocean but perhaps
it’s a song. Sing, then, song,
up into the vestibule,
climb into the small lit
ceiling not yet keeping us in.

Amanda Nadelberg (© 2010)