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Page 104

A car that has forgotten it can do other
than idle in a garage suddenly finds itself
on a highway going 80, trees and boulders
spinning past on either side -- disconcerting.

So we, free of body, tumbled about
by thoughts with no idea how to make them
once again our own, moving through walls
easier than through our ideas of walls
(is there now a difference?) -- and how
can one see spherically, all sides
at once? I mean, one is doing so, but
how?

Safer to be (and with that thought, with a ZZZIP!,
one is -- as if yanked back on a rubber band)
smack in one's good old head, more tightly tethered
than ever, and isn't it nice to be me, good old
me, a real character, you know -- everybody
knows good old me, a character as familiar
as THESE characters (a, b, c, etc.),
filling up blankness, making it safe.

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