Mimus Polyglottos

August 28, 2019 | Poems

There is so much to fear. Mainly death, but other things too –
divorce, a wasted life, the hatred of your children, serial killers –
perhaps just death after all.

I stand in my back yard, putting yard trash in contractor bags –
seventy cents a bag –
bankruptcy, foreclosure, homelessness, hunger, death again.

There is an unnatural noise coming from the trees.
I begin to come out of my temporary solipsism, and allow
the earth again to enter my senses.

It is the sound of the metal swing set in the park down the street.

REEEEEEK – ROOK – REEEEEEK – ROOK – REEEEEEK – ROOK

It is the sound of the quiet thrill
of falling – then shooting up – then falling again.

REEEEEEK – ROOK – REEEEEEK – ROOK – REEEEEEK – ROOK

It is the sound of that electric sensation that begins at your anus,
runs through your testicles, and ends somewhere in your intestines.

REEEEEEK – ROOK – REEEEEEK – ROOK – REEEEEEK – ROOK

It is the sound of a life’s worth of swing set sensation –
from the vacant animal joy of my dad’s “mega-mouth” pushes
to the searing panic of a broken arm flopping at my side.

REEEEEEK – ROOK – REEEEEEK – ROOK – REEEEEEK – ROOK

Except there is no swing set in the trees.
There is only a mockingbird reminding me –
“do not to be afraid.”