I’m not a sessile beast. Don’t settle easily
for what’s called peace. Trappings of civility,
seat belts, tight clothes, liaisons, excite
in me the fantasy of flight.
Some day, no doubt, I’ll dote and totter
close to home on swollen ankles, glad to know
how simply I can ease into a nearby chair.
Some day I even may weigh down
a mattress days on end, wired to tubes
like water clocks that drip my life away.
Some day (it’s possible) I even may
rebind my life to friend or lover
with a taut, resilient line hooked tight
into the heart. But not tonight.
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