It is hard to listen intently to the planet revolving
While your thoughts are dissolving into fragments
Of hyper reality.
And all that you can see --
When you close your eyes, when you try to blend in with a couple of --
white sheets.

All you can see when you get dizzy holding your breath
When you try to count all of the ways
Your Mother has taught you to behave
When you cannot contain your joy.

All you can picture is your hands with four thumbs
Crawling up surfaces and making a scene
Like a little doll show with bad balance,
It dwindles down at the lightest sneeze.

When your suspension is liquid --
And your movement is all in your head.

When you are just a head-collision away from falling asleep.
When your weary body is blue.
And that carousel in the horizon is all dim and crooked.

All you can manage to see,
Through your vein-y lids –
Is a never-ending dissection of memories
You cannot even bother to remember.