firstfullmoon
I’ve always wanted to be
excused. From the table.
From school. From work.
From life, actually.
I don’t feel well, may I be
excused from feeling?
I’ve always wanted to get
out of things. Downright
Houdiniesque. I’d like
to get out of this body. I don’t
remember how I got in.
I’d like to go by climbing
your body. Down your body and out
of my body. I think that’s how
we get here in the first place.
I don’t remember the first place.
I’d like to go back there though.
Excuse me if I elbow,
shoulder, knee. Excuse me if I
worm my way out of the crowded
now. We either go by breaking
into blossom, or by wilting
in place, the latter being so
heartbreaking, you have to look
away. You have to look away.
— Paul Hostovsky, “Escape Artist”