(3 of 3)
Skies curve away,
cataracts of stars extinguish
hissing in the juices of my eyes,
days, nights, tumbling like Jack and Jill,
a thousand dawns flood weightless into space
while I sit back here on the stoop knowing
I wouldn't play another goddamned round of this rigged pinball
even if I held the patent.
Even if I were the single vast inhabitant of hell.
Even if it had never happened to us all.
Fat chance. I'm home now
and to come home closes time,
bending the straight track back upon itself
like a hula hoop ready to be rolled
right down the hill into oblivion.
Ready or not, I'm turning to go inside.
To write these words.
To analyze the ride.
cataracts of stars extinguish
hissing in the juices of my eyes,
days, nights, tumbling like Jack and Jill,
a thousand dawns flood weightless into space
while I sit back here on the stoop knowing
I wouldn't play another goddamned round of this rigged pinball
even if I held the patent.
Even if I were the single vast inhabitant of hell.
Even if it had never happened to us all.
Fat chance. I'm home now
and to come home closes time,
bending the straight track back upon itself
like a hula hoop ready to be rolled
right down the hill into oblivion.
Ready or not, I'm turning to go inside.
To write these words.
To analyze the ride.
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Hypertext, poetry, and other links
Index of first lines
Thumbnail page of all graphics
Resources used to create Alphaweb
Introductory page
Meet the Weaver
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