Wednesday, February 01, 2006

my liquid points.

I have built myself
a fine cage. With
a fine wheel and
a fine feeder.

And I have
fine friends
in other cages,
which, i suppose
shouldn't seem so fine.

My cage is glass.
One year ago,
it was simply
one clear panel.
One smudge took
one wipe to clean.

Now, it is one
and one
and one
and one.

And they are
not all the same
color nor are they
the same shape.

The catalogue I used
said they would
look good together,
but when they came
in the mail, they didn't
look like the picture.

Screws were missing
or I got hungry
and swallowed them.
I am indiscriminate
when it comes to
what enters me
and exits me.

Mostly I don't even
notice, unless it hurts
after it enters me,
causing tinges.

Tinges of different colors:
the blue ones
keep me in bed for
several days,
the red ones
keep me going and going,
the green ones
keep me chasing my tail,
the orange ones
(rare tinge, that)
keep me flat on my back
and three feet above ground.

Now, my cage,
the glass walls,
have tinges of
each of those colors.

But when my cage
is in a particular
mood, the tasteless
walls melt into my feeder.

And before I know it,
the tinges flow
though me, one by one,
and I'm three feet
above my bed,
going and going
as fast as I can,
just chasing that
tail of mine.


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