This road is forked so I walk straight

Left is only right, but opposite

and right is only wrong, but different

I am talking in circles

I am walking nonsense

I am singing television

and watching harmonies in solitude

I am walking on my hands

I am writing with my toes

I dream in a reality

and live in a fantasy

what is right in front of me

comes at me from behind

a bullet skewers my back

while a knife shoots through my chest

I paint sculptures and statues with crayola

and I build Mona Lisa with bricks and stones

I dig to the depths of Mount Everest

I climb to the top of Death Valley

I dance in stillness to silence

I sleep in motion to beats

I talk to myself

I listen to you.