Like A Puppet
Head drops, resting on air and vertebrate.
Rest.
Roll, a dance swaying from side to side,
front to back.
A marionette whose puppeteer is distracted
on their cell phone.
I'm set down, picked up and dropped again.
My body is a carnival,
I watch outside a window.
Body needs a witness.
Silk and a weighted blanket,
fur and kin.
Support.
I'm so lucky.
Who is my conductor?
They are drunk again.
A spring, energy.
The well is deep.
Reintegration.
Marry this body
and mind.
Trust.
A marvelous miracle,
she's getting to know herself.
We are learning.
Teary cheeks and swollen eyes,
my mouth speaks for itself.
Thank God I can write.
Blessed rest.
I am safe.
I am protected.
Crumpled outside the door.
Down, down, down.
Pulsing.
Every distance is great.
Thank God
for small city houses.
I got a glass of water.
I made tea.
Could not leave the bathroom.
Minerals.
My legs are warm pudding.
Sunk down on this sheet of foam.
The cat is back and she is happy.
My companion.
Mother brings meals
and hope.
She is not crying, but I can tell she wants to.
Jon is silent.
He expects the worse.
He is waiting to lose his mom again.
I know this is temporary.
All of it.
Riding the waves.
Release.
This is how it feels to be a genius.
This is what it's like to be funny.
And to know how to dance.
The reckoning has come.
No longer will it be ignored.
In the shadow of tasks and duties.
Where is the duty-free shop?
I was in a canyon once,
Five-hundred feet deep.
She wanted to give way then,
but we agreed to wait until
the living room.
One day at a time.
But it moves so fast.
My arms...
My brain feels like an octopus who is changing colors;
electric.
Snaps and pops.
My body is an atlas.
A match made in heaven comes.
A marathon
several years in the making.
It's a good thing these shoes have arch support.
Frida...
Armatures: an internal or external support system.
May be temporary or permanent.
Let's check the marketplace.
I understand Ray Charles.
like a white lady on bedrest.
He's got the piano,
but I've got a long neck.
Who calls the doctor
when the patient is out?
Where do these plans come from?
So many adventures in this life.
My friends hold the compass.
Trust, worry and trust again.
It's time to rest.
-Carlynn Forst
Rest.
Roll, a dance swaying from side to side,
front to back.
A marionette whose puppeteer is distracted
on their cell phone.
I'm set down, picked up and dropped again.
My body is a carnival,
I watch outside a window.
Body needs a witness.
Silk and a weighted blanket,
fur and kin.
Support.
I'm so lucky.
Who is my conductor?
They are drunk again.
A spring, energy.
The well is deep.
Reintegration.
Marry this body
and mind.
Trust.
A marvelous miracle,
she's getting to know herself.
We are learning.
Teary cheeks and swollen eyes,
my mouth speaks for itself.
Thank God I can write.
Blessed rest.
I am safe.
I am protected.
Crumpled outside the door.
Down, down, down.
Pulsing.
Every distance is great.
Thank God
for small city houses.
I got a glass of water.
I made tea.
Could not leave the bathroom.
Minerals.
My legs are warm pudding.
Sunk down on this sheet of foam.
The cat is back and she is happy.
My companion.
Mother brings meals
and hope.
She is not crying, but I can tell she wants to.
Jon is silent.
He expects the worse.
He is waiting to lose his mom again.
I know this is temporary.
All of it.
Riding the waves.
Release.
This is how it feels to be a genius.
This is what it's like to be funny.
And to know how to dance.
The reckoning has come.
No longer will it be ignored.
In the shadow of tasks and duties.
Where is the duty-free shop?
I was in a canyon once,
Five-hundred feet deep.
She wanted to give way then,
but we agreed to wait until
the living room.
One day at a time.
But it moves so fast.
My arms...
My brain feels like an octopus who is changing colors;
electric.
Snaps and pops.
My body is an atlas.
A match made in heaven comes.
A marathon
several years in the making.
It's a good thing these shoes have arch support.
Frida...
Armatures: an internal or external support system.
May be temporary or permanent.
Let's check the marketplace.
I understand Ray Charles.
like a white lady on bedrest.
He's got the piano,
but I've got a long neck.
Who calls the doctor
when the patient is out?
Where do these plans come from?
So many adventures in this life.
My friends hold the compass.
Trust, worry and trust again.
It's time to rest.
-Carlynn Forst