The significance of the poem is that it shares a title with this blog. This is probably not a coincidence.
When I was a kid I would lie in the grass
And look up at the sky and the sky
And the sky would start spinning and I’d swear that I
Was about to get pulled off the world
I'd shove in my fingers grip the soil
All the personal gravity I could muster
Head pound heart spin
Fingernails painfully packed with black
Back beat the backyard
Curiously crucified with straight-pins
Lord of the cardboard display
Til I forgot to breathe
Sky stopped spinning as it darkened
I’d wake wrist-deep in the world
Why did I triumph? Never fell up
Never gave in let go let it
Suck pull extract extradite me
Anymore I’m too something
The sky doesn’t want me
Won’t answer my scream-dream prayer
To pull me away.
This is only a drill. If this had been an actual trepanation, the drivel you just read would be followed by machine sounds, a hiss like a basketball between garage door and garden rake, a cup of sweet milky tea, and a brand-new ancient smile.
I'm reexamining some things I wrote on Succinct and Shiny and I kind of wonder if migrating some of that old brilliance over here might be just the trick to fill this page with content without me actually having to think or type. We shall see.