Sawdust struck our eyes
when his teeth jawed
themselves against our tree.

His headband
constricted us like
a snake.

When he unclasped,
so did we.

Our bodies slackened
like absolved marionettes.
Held beers became
puddles on bar tables.

The yesterdays burnt
wax into our throats.

Today he is Atlas with the city
perched on his shoulders, the Earth

a lacquered basketball. Willingly,
now, we witness and worship his
every move, drawn by an influence
we ourselves do not carry with
every blink, every breath.

 

(Originally published in altered form in Perspective Literary Magazine – October 1st, 2014)