Escape Artist

It is not possible to live in a lie and,

at the same time, recognize it as such. 

Your head would explode. You’d

have to slip in and out of selves 

quicker than Houdini slipped in and out

of his waterlogged steamer trunk.

 

When you resolutely slam the door,

you must intend to leave.

To walk down the front path 

and to turn that corner should 

become the absolute goal of your life,

its pinnacle and its purpose.

 

The same goes for anything.

Because once you dare to look down

and understand that those are your legs 

frantically pedaling in sheer midair,

you will plummet, no questions asked.

 

What’s left but to cleave to and

believe in this palpable moment

as if it were everything,

as if it were your last hope,

as if against all odds,

you really meant it?

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