“Forget about remembering.” – Neil Young

There is great pain in silence,
no growth in smiling like a clown,
laughing when you’re down
and seems like the only way up.
But look,
look! look! See?
See your reflection in the linoleum?
Are you still as well as you told them?
Your parents? Your friends?
Up from the bowels with the bends,
you were turning over and over,
searching for spherical air on its way
to any surface, running from gravity.
The high wall of the sea is tile
kitchen floor where you see yourself:
Follow, follow. Tame the hunger.
Wet the floor, stomp the floor,
splash, splash, stamp like wild,
and map a smile
on the plain
of your beauty
as you throw
your head back,
back with cheer.


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