The Bliss of Departure

I flew the coop.
Hopped away like a squirrel.
When summer came in its sandals,
I put on mine.

I stood on heels as thin as needles
That pierce the heart.
I fit entirely in my suitcase.
I got to know the bliss of departure.

There had been enough deadly wounds,
Enough wars between countries.
I swallowed all kinds of pills.
Black warts grew everywhere.

I no longer want to be a rose in someone’s lapel,
Someone’s life jacket,
A hole in someone’s shoe,
Nor the shoe that pinches.

I sharpen the pencil to a point.
I don’t need anyone to sit next to me
Waiting for me to throw him a glance
Like a bone to a hungry dog.
I don’t want anyone to snore next to me
Like a choir of saws in a forest
While I drill the ceiling with my eyes.

Like a crust of bread to an infant
I need my hours for myself
To rub the gums where teeth will grow
With which to bite what once bit me.

I won’t share my solitude with anyone.
Now I hold my time in the palm of my hand/
No one can break it into pieces.

I either thumb the pages or close the covers,
Or lie around and keep my feet occupied.
So, let’s go far from reality and fish for happiness
On the piers of the imagination!