I walk
so cut off
The world seems
almost distant
Earlier I had a thought
What’s it like
to be her?
Different feelings
different agendas
different fascinations
different preoccupations
different differences
I looked down at
my feet
I lay in bed
and gazed at
my feet
She lay beside me
Our arms touched
Sometimes I dream
more than I exist
I felt like a doll
splayed out across
the bed
in a little girl’s dollhouse
Nothing seemed real
nothing seemed relevant
I’m fascinated by
the deconstruction of
the five senses
The nothingness we perceive
when we stare across the sky
5,000 feet high
buried 5,000 feet under-
neath the clouds
Yesterday there was a dog fight
I was called upstairs
to help restrain
the big, predatory pit bull
named Cricket
who attacked the littlest,
cutest dog
in the world
named Tinkerbell
When I arrived on the scene
a woman half my size
struggled with
Cricket’s leash
using all her might to hold it back
I passed her in the hallway
and went straight to my wife
clutching Tinkerbell
When I heard the dogs barking
down the hall
and up the stairs
and I saw Christina
hurrying in that direction
I got up and followed suit
I wanted to make sure
she didn’t
go off on
her mom
She wanted me to hold the leash
I found out later on
They labeled cricket
a bad dog
I love Tinkerbell to death
I said, No
Cricket’s just a dog
What do you expect?
She’s a dog that can’t be
so why try
Sometimes I feel distant
voices are distant
people are distant
I’m preoccupied with
the deconstruction of
Sometimes I think too surreal
I feel surreal
my mind is surreal
If you tried to follow
my train of thought
you’d be lost in
the commotion of
a big city
I feel like a doll
in a little girl’s dollhouse
Things seem plastic
I’m out of control

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