Free fall

ScreenHunter_164 May. 23 20.45FREEFALLING

On one of your days
A Thursday,
The universe
The whole damned thing
Just twists sideways.
And after some brief
Holding on
It gives you a
Little shake and
You just slip off
Neckwhip quick
Freefalling

Down through the rain clouds
The cool moon clouds
And thin evaporous clouds
Down falling
Through the wisps of winter smoke
Through the pothole in the ozone
And yood think
Yood land at some point
Or another
So you wait for that
Dull thud which
With so many others
Forms a dull
Alkaline rain.
But time passes
And the bottom doesn’t come
And you have these conversations
ON THE WAY DOWN
Lots of them
And others come
As you’re freefalling
To take large chunks
Out of your heart
Your time
Your mind
Your body
Your soul
And when they are done
Still others come
One by one
To pin their small notes
To your person
Which you can never remove
And which flutter
In the wind as you fly
On your
Way down.

Then you hit
Rock bottom
Emotionally
So you fly limp
Twisting and
Fluttering round and round
Spinning languid
Like a hollowed-out
Paper mache bird
With odd personal messages taped
To its wings.

So by now yood thing
Yood be through
What with the chunks missing
And the hope gone
And your life all
A flutter
Of insignificant
Personal notes
But its not.

You’ve only just begun
The freefalling
And after some time
One last chance
Begins to form in you
Just one last chance
To pull out of this dive
By sheer will
To climb all the way
Up and out
This long descent
And you imagine
What it would be like
Because you want that one last chance
So what do you do?
You look at the other poor bastards
Who fell just
When you did.

And you form
A support group
ON THE WAY DOWN
And I’m serious about this
You actually form a club
Of freefallers
And everyone who belongs
Gets a t-shirt
And with your remaining
Change you all send
A lobbyist ahead of you
To explain the nature
Of your falling.
And soon others come alongside
To help Y’all
Because
After all
You’re falling
And they’ve got some advice
On their hands
And you’ve got the time
Falling as you are
All the time with
No land in sight.
So you listen
And these men
(and they are always men)
Remind you
That there are definite ways
To navigate
While airborne
Even at your present trajectory
And you’re so tired of falling
And thinking of the inevitable
(which looks better and better
the more monotonous your fall becomes)
That you actually begin to
LISTEN TO THESE PEOPLE
And what they say
Begins to make sense
Because you desperately
Want something
Anything
To make sense.
So, you listen to the frequent flyers
Who swear on a stack o’ bibles
That they can fly
Right through those ozone holes
And grab the world like a lover
Plant their seed
And reap the market share.
And they always zoom by
In their fancy cars
Just to prove it
(only you notice their cars
Are always pointed down)

But you listen
Because they offer to teach
You a new skill:
How to read your instruments
How to navigate and fly
And you’ve been falling for so long
Without any real variation
(except the twist and roll)
That you see the wisdom
Of focusing on
Your instrument panel.
For years and years
As you’re falling and freefalling
They teach you the panel
You’re learning the panel
And studying it as you freefall
Until you know it
Dammit, You really know the thing
And they give you
Your pat on the back
And a shake
And two pieces of paper
Which join you to them forever
Now that you know how to fly
And how to read
The panel.
Well,
After the party
After the graduation party
And after you’ve slept off
The nails raging and jangling in your brain
You settle into your seat
Grab the controls
Check your instrument panel
And say
“That’s enough of this falling shit!”

And as you pull
That wheel back into your chest
It snaps clear off
In your hands
And the lighted panel of instruments
Goes dark and dead.

And you hear only
The wind.

Freefalling.

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