On Hold

I would love to know the Normal route 

from A to Be a bit more

"in the know" 

of these sorts of things.

But while I seldom leave my comfort zone

--a deep trench leveling out somewhere around oakland, I think--

I've managed to take pit-stops on hold for 12 different

police departments

world-wide. My Pleas have been 

to Sydney and London, but that was just the beginning. 

In a way, I have seen the world.

I gave you directions to Dangerland; I

taught you to take a trip without google maps,

which couldn't have helped you anyway.

Not even google can tell you 

where a Bird will fall

mid-flight

quarter-flight

Barely off the ground

and just how fast you must run to catch it.

My net is getting full, but the Weight in my arms

keeps me awake.

I hope her chirping will keep you awake.

I hope she still chirps.

I wonder if there is a Normal route--

a foil for your symptoms--

a catalyst for your incarceration--

or if we all trudge through our own silly detours

and if that is the whole point.

I always imagined the Normal route would tickle the tongue 

like cinnamon on christmas.

Instead, you make me smell Iron,

but your Bare skin looks so gorgeous against the Snow.