will you count balloons with me?

the factory has just released
a fantastic amount. a flock
of balloons. all colors. right above
the city. do you remember
how the last cloud sighed? i want
to release like that. 
if i catch a balloon
we can tie a love letter
to its tail & let it find 
a nesting place. where do you send
your desires? i have tried to keep
a journal several times 
but i always give up.
some people keep divisions between
themself & their art. i think i am
my poems in an irrevocable way.
is this something i will regret?
i could fly a poem high up
so that it lodges itself
on the face of the moon. can 
the ghosts up there read?
i applied for a job at the balloon factory
& you laughed at me because you said
they only hire angels. 
that is just a rumor 
but it could be true.
no one ever comes or goes 
from a factory. i think i would enjoy
that kind of capture. what do you call
the machine you crave? 
all those balloon tails. all those faces.
the sun glinting off their torsos
as they find a place to hover
where the air is cold & distant.
i want to hover. no like a bee
or a humming bird but in
the balloon's specifically reckless way.
no libs clinging to air 
just a round body ready to diminish.
you cannot count balloons alone.
will you sit here. make a tally
in the dirt or the sand or the water.
i will say "one one one"
& you will draw lines for each
until we have found them all. 

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