Aboutness
A bright smell of osmanthus
cuts through the air—
thin,
tear apart
the skin.
Sticky shoes on the ground.
Broken glass and empty bottles.
Watch me perform
a nose dive
into a puddle.
Burning vapor pervades the room,
the sting settles in my nose.
People gather round
the fallen cup.
There is no way but up.
Up on the ladder—
where the wood groans
under the heavy weight of their eyes.
Dissolve your human ties.
Walk the tightrope
between the clever and the dead
to go under.
Show your shiny feathers—
a witty joke
tossed down
for good measure.