I try

sometimes,

my energy propels me to a different place,

a satisfying luxury,

less common than I’d like to be,

yet it always happen,

the current,

the arms and hands and legs and

the talons

always seem to covet me,

without asking I might suggest, maintain, incite,

a certain flavor of dependency,

speaks to my purpose,

and it’s there I begin to play with

lunacy.

I wonder sometimes,

if it would be that easy,

lose my mind, become homeless, live in a street,

I wonder if I would worry quite as much as I do today,

when it seems I walk right past

the mirror.