So much for beating your indoor chest
stood predator star,
never picked only placed before doors.
Do you not now know what you poet...
holding your breath arms akimbo
stood base thinking in flames of yourself
at the manned gates to fair Switzerland's brink...
would you fancy say going solo forever instead.
Setting sail for good on a standard stranded man crafted raft,
equipped with nothing save few-hundred euros and the hypocrite inside you...
lost where life is all but perfect,
taking the longest cut across wide open ocean possible.
razor free and limeless on a never-again bent to kiss land tour...
...
and if things go well...
you might harvest plankton from the rotted raft's rope
for your supper, and for fluids take twice from yourself
a handful of urine sipped to grind spit.
In shark free waters you could paddle with your hands and feet for fun...
tipping her over if a rescue plane coasts overhead...
and at night feel for the moon making moves,
forcing form on your un-mastered and visible quarter mile of ocean.
And by day on your back watching birds
appear then dissolve in mid-migrate.
falling from a distant nowhere to an out of sight,
still looping in a starring role they'd played
in what's our early evolution...
and there you are sprawled out below them,
fast forgetting tenth grade physics
floating on a few killed trees tied close together...
High up above you
in a Hollywood-set-style heaven
beyond two floors of sky,
and another five of inner-most outer-space
hang awake darwin's bones.
wheeled on a hook to the edge of a cumulous cloud.
peering down just, eating you up
and loving your nature to death...
And there you'll be,
lain prostrate chipping salt
from your lips with starvation soft teeth
sprawled out in the way of the sun.
You see no one truly cares if you take your bloated backpack,
big bag of Tylenol, and the long way never into Switzerland...
Poor poor stranded and big gigantic (x2)
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