you squeezed it from its little packet
onto your glazed doughnut  
mindlessly committing culinary blasphemy  
without a sound  
others did not notice  
until they saw the yellow remnants
on your red wax lips  
they said nothing  
for their rapt attention was on the boss  
who chattered on about grand ideas  
while you guiltlessly chewed and swallowed  
I missed nothing  
for your bold foray
into comestible “paradigm shifts”  
was of far more interest to me  
than the inflated business at hand    
like sweet custard on a Frito pie  
your mustard caught my eye  
and had me pondering
the elusive mysteries
of  mind and mouth
while others gazed at our leader’s clean moving lips  
untroubled by their enchantment

when I was an ancient five    
I KNEW I was different
from all other creatures alive  
I did not know to ask the wise ones  
why?    
I could read their minds  
but I guess most men, barely three feet tall
are cursed with this skill  
so I watched and wondered  
and though I did not know how fish breathed  
I knew I was one, out of water  
my gills gasping  
as I walked this chunk of stone  
others seemed so at home,
not I,  
I would hide under the covers from the devil  
my sister said was real  
if they feared the same demons  
they, the infinitely normal,
did not let this be known  
so I watched and wondered
and counted their breaths  
(even then, I knew, they had a finite number until their deaths)  
and made a disturbing discovery--I did not breathe like they  
but faster than some, slower than others  
and when I tried to get in sync with them  
it would work for only a few inhalations  
and the “they” again somehow left me behind  
to breathe air, alone
when water was likely my truer home  
I can’t recall when I gave up the quest, to be like they  
they who all breathe in unison,  but I suspect  
it was on some summer day
in the dry world of a five year old stone walker  
who should never have left the deep blue sea