flight school for not-boys
one day, i was pushed from the roof. no, i didn't grow wings.
i fell into a pit of cherries. all blood begins with hunger.
stains under my fingernails. i just wanted to taste
a piece of cloud. the sun said, "boys are always trying
to grab something." i said,"i'm not quite a boy." the sun laughed.
after that, i spent ever afternoon gathering feathers.
stood beneath the pine tree picking up even the smallest ones.
the birds said, "not enough" until one day it was.
i didn't learn to fly from them though. i tossed vases
& picture frames out the window. saw how quick they became
catastrophies. to fly is often to plummet. i let myself tumble
& all the feathers disperse. i'll tell them i flew.