PUPPETEERS

1.

I understand more than I can say. The last firework went off, which does not concern you or me. Saying nothing can often mean more than something, something being anything and anything being echoes. Mercy, I need antibiotics or a detox on the skull. I brushed my teeth and packed a bag. Don't forget the camera. It’s possible I won’t write a single thing after this-- no one’s asking me to. In New York, with Emily, in moratorium we listen for sirens and watch the burglars. I don’t want to come down. Let’s stay here and eat bagels, just take pictures. 

2.

My neck shortened. (It was on a string). And my arms and legs collapsed. All the kids kept shouting in their cages— they wanted more. I told them to appreciate the small things and stop whining. They started crying, and their plump mothers came to take them away. Am I going to have to spoon-feed you too?

3.

In the sanitarium, we’re playing checkers. You like to watch thrillers at lunchtime and collect smiling faces. I tried to kill my stepmother with nail clippers. I should have used the lawnmower. You are tired of waiting, so many hiccups and delays. So much uncertainty. It builds character. What can I say? You have a strong jaw line and cherry colored lips. I will go to the presses and print you with my own hands.

SLEEP

I wake you to say something I had forgotten. I don't know any better. You stole the sheets again. This is anxiety. Arms sleeping. The feeling's gone. Do you think I'm sexy? For how long? Morning comes and I feel better, calmer, making a spinach omelet. Good for the mind or something. It's deceiving. Bright and awake, the sun soaks the walls reminding me of a painting I haven't seen yet, waving, but not hello. There's pulp in my throat. Were you saying something? You must be tired. I don't feel sexy. This isn't me. Who are you? I haven't forgotten. Dinner at 7. There is something. I get back into bed and practice sleep. Various positions. You don't mean misunderstanding. But how can we be here again?

Less is more, which is to say we're disappearing slowly. But admire the vastness. What I want to say is stay for a while. We've only started. There are plenty of movies (mostly black and white) that turn me on. Now that I've told you let's begin. Wrinkles in the forehead are signs of life, in some cases death. I do adore you. Then again it could be food poisoning. I wanted to hear a secret then expose it, but you caught on. Anyway, the good secrets are never told.