even this could go
sometime this small string of rubber
you and i perch upon
hanging over the big dark hole
you and i in the prison
with no floor
big rushing air comes up sometimes
and we steady, help each other
bouncing
rough rock on the sides but
no hands or feet going up
they throw the food once a day
sometimes you catch it sometimes me
sometimes we starve
sleeping in shifts
holding on to an ankle and
dreaming of times to come
the clear blue cool wave like
moving perfect glass in the sun
the fruits
the grass green and thick
the breeze straight from the seventies
i could feel clearly then
and you too
catch yourself
let’s bounce together
higher see a door or
fly out free as the mind sees it