proof of

for a while i watched the steep ascent of airplanes
the curved underbelly of their bodies brushed with shellac
their engines roaring madly over small land
which is where i started to dream of flying












AND every once in a while i have this nightmare where i'm climbing instead,
i climb stairs and trees and drain pipes. my hands grip them going up.
ladders and scaffoldings, mountains. i'm going somewhere but won't ever get there; scaling everests,
i think,
i could do this forever




and wake up tired --













my life is a delicate juggling balance


untalented / uncoordinated hand eye
anytime i try to add another object i drop everything.