What They May Say

They say I am a capsized sailboat,
believing the wind still pushes her.
They say I am
bankrupt, without a body for a safety net to catch me.
They say I have no business being,
they say I am a theory for but theory’s sake.
They said once:
You are like a daydream that thinks it’s real.
Now they say:
You are like a nightmare that doesn’t know it’s real.
They say if you shake me long enough
I’ll start playing music, backwards;
broken body full of word salad they say if
I didn’t die then, then surely I died sometime before and
shake me long enough you’ll hear
my ghost.
They say I am a strand of limp hair
in a haystack.
They say I’ll come
if you don’t call.
They say I’ll run
if you tell me to stay they say:
You are fibula bone that is operating under the assumption that it is a femur bone and it is not.
They say, the beast is best knocking tonight;
don’t let her answer.
Be at rest
rattling the walls, making the
light fixture
swing. They say:

You are a holocaust just waiting to happen; you never once noticed the inside-outness of your skin when we put you together; you don’t know a good joke when you hear one you poor foolish gaping gir—

They say that when it’s all over,
I’ll fly away, like I never had weight.
Like a leaf.
Like a spin top forgetting gravity.
Like an eyelash.
They say you can’t judge a book by its cover, but they also say

even a broken clock is right twice a day.

I say.

I say, that I haven’t noticed what isn’t to notice,
I haven’t wasted a breath on anything but
making sure to pull air into my lungs.
I say:
If the Earth raises a maple tree within a grove of oaks, does it grow up knowing it’s a maple?
I say let sleeping dogs
have dreams I say:

You don’t know a bad joke when you hear one. You poor foolish gaping gir—

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