i feel like
i'm flinging armloads
of syllables, words and
letters over the side
of a cliff
i lean over
the edge and watch
them flutter and drift away
like mute little hawks
or paper moths
is anyone
below, caught in this
downpour of admissions
secrets and
confessions
are they
collecting these as they fall
piecing them together
out of order, making up
some different story
or is it all
in vain and me the fool
tossing it into the wind
only to have it all
blown back in my face
bhagiti 7.9.07 perrysburg, oh