reflections of a wall-gazer
my walls, my ceilings
are white for purity of life-style
and here beneath my feet
the floorboards are black
the flavor of death
which has no color
these boards which support
me now a membrane
between this moment and the abyss
beyond this room:
foundation for the walls
which are my context
i am supported, i am sheltered
thus immured
i exist
______________________
and there on the wall
grotesque icon
glaring in the heat
of one naked electric flame
one hundred-fifty watts
of unmitigated proof: the mirror
relentless merciless
infinite -- timelessly truthful
say these cellular eyes
_______________________
but behold the mind, the dream
admitting the term -- the soul:
there is a funhouse reflection
a non-stop flight
unexpurgated passport
bon voyage, my
blue-eyed boy --
never stop to question now
o, who is fairest
of them all
every mirror is another wall
every crack in the flooring
is the boundary of another
crisis of identity:
ticky-tock, all light’s a clock
________________________
in existential limbo sometimes
i think i’m a cheeseburger
often a television, a lucky strike
a ready woman
less frequently a symphony
a breath of air, a field of wheat
gone copper with the evening sun
o, when will i at last
confront the face of something holy
happy gleaming from the wall
think i’m a window
and fly out the door
pursuing with the speed of light
the swift-heeled shadow
of something left sitting
within wall ceiling and floor
?
X
