Puppet X,26 Poem by Jerry Ratch

26



The puppet came to me
and he smiled
(We will not whisper
about it…)

I see it now
My life, your life
(the water running down)

Is it death?
Is it dreamless?

Its sleep
was like a white cotton thread

All evening and into the night
I felt dead
I felt like I had to move around
to keep up appearances

You don't want to laugh

The lopped-off fingers
lying on the table
like tiny bananas

* *

Me and my experimental grief
Trying to experience death
before the dead
so that I may live through it

'Like a true balloon
he wobbles his head'


“Now we don't have to worry
about running out
Now we don't have to worry
about running in
Upstairs
Downstairs
Now we're drinking gin…”

Well
I know him
Yes -
The owl and the umpire
Run where you will…

Hopeful little smiles
drawn on their faces

The owl asking
the same bare thing
of every
one

* *

The light dimmed
and the ceiling awoke
in a sheet
of pale green flame

My soul dropped
to its knees
and for the first time
in six years
I spoke