Fallen Safe

There were eight shadows and one soul. I pierced a light,

and tore a vibe. How would I return: spinning pool to

debt, and death to spool? I felt rolled into a safe, where

flowers kneeled and dug a grave. Life had misspoken.

Something was absurd: fetching for peace in a hostile

world; but elements preached of God.

Mother was near a

ghetto, screaming: “Make a path”; and lovers were near

a valley, wailing: “Give us more.”

I nudged a doctor, and

flagged a nurse. They watched a classical nightmare—

speaking in jargon. I ran the hall and kicked a door—only

to awaken in a vase. She cried of life and lonely ducks.

I listened; somewhat confused, attempting to enter her

spirit. She screamed: “We’re were you; and why you didn’t

try harder; and why are you so mean?” I stood, fallin’,

gripping words, as bland as cubes of ice.