[puppet show]

i am a puppet & the Universe pulls my strings. 

i am confined in a box— a stage, they said. 

(a cage, i say.) 

     sometimes the walls shrink: bones collapsing, 

fingers groping, 

claws scratching against chalkboard, 

     & i wonder if i am living in the maw of a slumbering creature. 

if i am trapped in the shifting jaws 

of Death. 

     every day, 

the Universe jerks me up, lifting me 

     with the same gnarled fingers that go 

snip 

snip 

snip 

to the strings of so many others. 

     every day, i grow restless as Time forgets to set its clock. 

as tomorrow becomes yesterday, i dream 

of smoke. of flashing teeth. of rebellions 

breathed into the night like jagged secrets 

for the stars to hear 

& no one else.

but i am a good puppet. 

i let myself wilt under the gaze of the world, let my limbs toss 

like skeletons as i dance beneath unforgiving fists. 

     i perform the same stage again & again & again, 

hoping that one day, i can escape this chilling echo of time. 

     hoping that one day, my invisible audience will applaud. 

hoping that one day, 

the curtains will go down 

& i can take a bow 

long 

 

 

 

 

 

overdue.