forest escalator

we took the machine into canopy.
asking each other "which up
are we going to be?" a sky is
an egg-ceiling. all the bird 
dying & falling past like hail storm
or broken beads. do you remember
when the earth was flat? 
how we could walk for days & find
the ledge to stare off of.
final trees of the forest
gripping tight onto the conclusion.
now, every sentence ends with 
a tiny earth. or is it a cherry seed?
making the wild more modern.
inviting visitors to see
the horizon's contact lens.
i never wanted to leave the ground.
in fact, i would not have given up
on the all-fours life. 
lizards & me. the forest is always
growing taller. pushing the beach ball sun
back & forth in the air. 
so many people next to me 
walk downward as the escalator
moves up. perpetual legs. 
i listen to the direction.
go higher & higher. past the ghosts
of elephants who hover just above
the trees & past the threat
of thunder. below the forest becomes
a patch of strawberry tops.
goodbye birds. i grow feathers
to fill that space. my eyes 
plant what i need. dirt waterfall.
"where are we going?" i ask another.
he becomes a cluster of snakes.
i consider jumping but instead
request the mechanism send me back
as a droplet of water. 
a voice says, "sure, whatever."
i plummet & seep into the soil below.
the others, i am unsure what became of them.