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trust issues at 40, 000 feet

by Gabriel Ricard

It’s not good manners
to question my grip on reality,
when it’s going out of its way
to be so darn entertaining.

The lights on every fifteen floor
are slow, and I guess someone may have
just left them on to give hope to the streets.

The lights of the lucky people I see
at the top of the tallest suicidal hill in the state
are only moving a few feet back and forth,
but they’re moving as though someone,
somewhere has injected speed into very particular
parts of this town.

I don’t accept this as reality,
but I don’t go looking for a pair of eyes
that will bring my focus back to textbook normalcy.

What I do accept is that things have a way of conducting
an endless science experiment with or without my participation.

I asked a priest about it. He told me was saving every penny
he had ever stolen to build a neighborhood of houseboats in Death Valley.

I talked to a dancer about it. She put on a Wonder Woman outfit,
and left me in a hospital two days later with one of her wigs glued to my head.

I consulted a librarian who reads Tarot cards. She sighed, undid two buttons
on her blouse, and told me that what she knew was hurting her political ambitions.

This is why,
for better or for worse,
I’d rather take my own misguided advice.

Dear Radio Stations Still Standing:
I did not give you permission to make me wish
I could steal a certain kind of car. Just so I can dig on the memories of when someone
was always willing to pick me up from places
where darkness grants dwindling, shiny reprieves as an act of arrogant charity.

Dear Small Box of Jewelry Returned To Me Over The Years:
I am only keeping you as evidence that there were times
when something singular, amazing, and extremely constant and alive
could dazzle and destroy me from the afternoon to the evening.

I could ask why that doesn’t happen as often as it used to,
but then I hit the town on a Friday night with ninety bucks,
and I manage to do a pretty good job of answering
my own question.

11/14/2012

Posted on 11/15/2012
Copyright © 2024 Gabriel Ricard

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by David Maurice on 11/15/12 at 04:25 AM

little bit o' spit on this shine. I likes.

Posted by Joe Cramer on 11/15/12 at 01:33 PM

... excellent, as always.....

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