i made a private and failed attempt

to broker a me of better extent

so that every ride in the hereon after

the circus tent

the carnie's laughter

would be unforgettable

 

i wanted to encapsulate for all of us

the loneliness of wandering

this greyhound bus

a community never found that was good enough

by a mistaken runaway carried along

in unstoppable shoes

 

i couldn't do it

there was no book

a thousand portholes

no me to look

perforated as cheese i couldn't work

i let leak each starry sentence

 

in the end i torched every sheet

snapped clean the floppies

destruction complete

a boyfriend i loved on bended knee

kept this garden fire under control

even if his fence charred and burned

 

i felt better

the old me lost

crazy shoes gone also

at whatever cost

the boyfriend who built the fire left as well

it was ground zero and there was an end to it

 

now a new attempt to be

a broker of a better me

i write a novel further and faster

no stallion unrest

no girlfriend laughter

just my quickening heart and this summit

 

then when a therapist

tall enough

questions me on the harder stuff

why the striving

for so far off

i say normal utterly normal

 

why indeed

when did it start

my childhood ambition

this over-pumped heart

so much to correct and pull apart

when already i am a child of god