To all you people running loose
on this planet: though each must date
their own signature in this world, I hereby
indicate agreement and understand
that I can withdraw if I choose
and if you have questions
I give my permission. Don’t we
all stand “poised at the brink”
of teeth, lips, feet, hands
and veins checked regularly
to determine suitability? Sometimes
a catheter (tube) is inserted and notes
croaking in the groin or neck. In other
words, maybe I should ring someone. But
then I remember that each season, Fairy
Sparkle got better and better, thanks to trans-
mental medication and irregular effusions
coupled with flits in the garden, to which
I develop an immune response that passes
‘by’ or ‘through’ or ‘on’ or ‘out’ off
as some sort of laughing gas disease,
and can send people out please, for
foreign proteins and endless tests, my
wand more glittery, its ping more dramatic.
And then I go getting these pangs of good
bye and good luck, redemption. That’s
when I give ’em the distinguished
pong, my true consolation
against the dark.