Tether

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Tired and true, these thoughts dangle
at my wits end, hanging above the fire
of my bridges burnt.  They are my
assets, liabilities, and follies.


At once, they mock and flatter,
portraying a clown's sophisticated
manner to the apathetic audience
which lines the shore.  JUMP...


...to the valley far below.  Plummeting,
now--through the rage set fire, and 
foul air these creatures breath--to
the soft, forgiving valley floor.  FREE...


...from the imposition of ignorance'
will.  This temporary death cleanses
the stink of regret and self doubt from
my soul--even as my wits end slides...


...down the canyon wall.  As a snake
it slithers--hissing my defiance.  Soft
and slow--so not to startle--it curls
round' my thoughts, subdued.


Then--with the snap of an overstretched
umbilical--I'm dying, once again,
in the comedy above.  The reviews
are repulsive, and the jeers just the same.


No matter, I've vacationed the valley,
and rewritten the script...