zipline from heaven 

don't tell me it's going to be okay.
i want to wallow in a field of thumb tacs.
chew on splinters. have climate terrorism fantasies
& then eat a microwaved pancake 
while sitting in bed. the dream realm has always
been such a tease. here is your big big glory
& then there is the morning. i love
to get up in time to watch the angels 
shoot geese. they do it for sport
like all creatures of power. it is never about need
it's always about thrill. but don't i want that too?
to run like my legs used to let me. to kick
a tiger in the teeth. have daggers fall out
of a doctor bag. i wait on the phone waiting
for the township to talk to me. they finally arrive
& say, "we are not sure if your people
are humans anymore." i sigh. this was
to be expected. their mistake though,
now i'm going to hop the landfill fence 
& find all the dinosaur bones they claim
are not there. pins & needles. purses 
& purloined hair. i wear a wig. no one recognizes me.
it turns me into a woman & i'm okay with this
for the sake of disguise. one day all our grandmothers
will take the zipline down from heaven
& grab us by the hair. they will say,
"why did you eat the apple seeds?" i tend
the tree inside myself. opal apples. they glow
a brilliant gold. spare buttons. spare teeth.
i do not know how this year could 
close up but i am told wounds are always
a site of sealing. what is kept inside. what is
let lose into the river. ribbon of blood.
rocky road. a spoonful of sand eaten 
with a sip of cream. instead tell me i am 
on fire & i look beautiful. instead tell me
there is a bungie cord around my waist.
i don't care if its actually there. 
this is how i'd like you to lie to me.