AM Decompression Chamber

Too hot waterfall on low stream

Stunning me, numbing me

Pulling out thought corks

Ushering monsters back into closets

Whispering soothing lullabies to my subconscious

Alerting alter egos of their incarcerations

Freezing story-lines like gargoyles of stone

And I’m free of the cloak and dagger

the bus explosions, endless running,

the intrigues and betrayals, and the

rapidly changing scenery

I escape from the tyranny of being

the hero rather than the heroine

I bask in the comfort of realizing I

didn’t miss my regents exam, sleep

through my alarm, nor over-order office supplies

Slinging through mind webs like Spiderman

I savor this brief interlude to clarify whether or not I

do have symptoms of an infectious disease

To allow my brain to register that I didn’t

write that story much less live it

To breath deeply the relatively clean steam

Anticipating a piece of history yet unspotted

Like fresh powder before the plow with malice

destroys its simple purity

There is a small grateful part of me clicking into

the truth that who I am is yet to be

And I’m happy in the lovely awareness of my limbs

and extremities as they unleash a sense of solidity

Splashing below this aluminum cliff


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