Easy as Falling Down Stairs

To always be in motion there is no choice

even for the mountain and its frigid

cousins floating on the oceans that even sluggish

seethe and moan and laugh out loud at their own

jokes. How "like the human heart" can be said of

pert near everything, pint of fizz, punching

bag because all moves: the mouse, the house,

the pelt of moon corresponding to the seas

(see above) (now get back here) of mood,

sadness heaving kelp at the sunken city's

face, gladness somersaulting from the eaves

like a kid's drawing of a snowflake. No matter

how stalled I seem, some crank in me

tightens the whirly-spring each time I see

your face so thank you for aiming it

my way, all this flashing like polished

brass, lightning, powder, step on the gas,

whoosh we're halfway through our lives,

fishmarkets flying by, Connecticut,

glut then scarcity, hurried haircuts,

smell of pencils sharpened, striving,

falling short, surviving because we ducked

or somehow got some shut-eye even though

inside the hotel wall loud leaks. I love

to watch the youthful flush drub your cheeks

in your galloping dream. Maybe even

death will be replenishment. Who knows?

Who has the time, let's go, the unknown's

display of emeralds closes in an hour,

the fireworks' formula has changed, will we

ever see that tangerine blue again, factory

boarded up then turned into bowling lanes.