"I've always followed my pith,"
and I don't know what the falling colors mean.
What I mean
is that the ground is itching to soar, and I keep pitching to soar
out of orbit
because I've lost my footing.
Sometimes what's broken about
a helicopter helps it glissando through aerobatics
—as a joke.
Let go of a dream catcher in favor of being shattered
by mold like a fire hydrant
shattered by rust.
Meditation is a haven.
Tarot is another religion.
The cards are blotched and scratched
while speaking to an audience
from still slides that seem to move.
