to gail

somedays it is an apathetic chair i linger in,
bemused,but i still recede into the
protective haze of indifference;
a thick coat for this warm winter.

i know the contradictory mirrors line my feet.
i see the black birds flying over you in dreams.
you can grab yourself and hope you
havent gambled all your teeth away.
you can speak to the floor and hope your
words are heavy enough to wake the sleeping wood beneath.
(it wont)

you can grab your throat
rip your tattoos off
and find a hole in your shadow
where the light drips in
slow and frozen.

you can burn your arms off if you think it would help.
(it wont)
you can pierce you tongue with blue arrows
then cut it off with the black blade you
stole...a gift of silent gazes
timing the constant swing
of dusk and dawn; the rope is hung on a gallows pole.

still, somedays i stare at the clouds march
over silver bridges of light
a wax zoo melting in the heat of the sun.
i figure most days when i feel this way
everybody else feels just like i do.

so most of these days, im happy.