triple time September 18

we don’t fight
we frighten.
we make sure that neither
of us flutters out of the window.

I seek the calm of the theatre
before an impersonation is presented,
the calm of the hospital waiting-room
making sure we are thinking of the right thing.

we shoot words shoot paper planes
as if they were destinies. nothing happens.
juvenile, fun-loving, hammock-swinging,
self-indulging… nothing happens.