(sigh.)
I guess I’ll need to move sooner or later.
Don’t know which way.
They tell me I’m headed in the right direction, but how can I
Know?
A sort of spiritual Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey,
Except for it’s dark and it’s no party
And the only ass I’m sure about is
Me.
I’m blind, or the lights are out, or I shut my eyes real tight
I can’t remember which.
Between myself and everybody else, I’m plenty spun around.
Don’t know how far it is to the wall, or if I’m facing the “right” wall, or if there really is a wall or a donkey or if that thing in my hand really is a tail
Or a tale.
I don’t know whether my goal is a sole donkey on the wall, waiting for the push-pin tail, or if the walls are plastered with itty-bitty-donkey wallpaper, and hitting any of them will do.
I’m afraid to move.
What if?
What if I miss the mark?
What if I poke my tail where it doesn’t belong?
(What if I just sit here and don’t move,
in Protest,
until Someone turns the lights on?
Or would that be asinine?)
This is my one chance – I can’t mess it up. I can’t fail.
But here I am, just standing here, failing.
Oh, God, I am still failing.
What if
I just
hold my arm straight out,
like this
and
