eyes in the back of my head

i traded a crow for their visions.
one bird eye without any shoes.
behind me is a jump rope garden
where all my little failures go
to have scones. do you ever feel like
even the sky is talking about you?
the clouds make trading cards
of my faces. they say, "look how
angry it was." i don't feel a lot anymore.
sometimes this concerns me. 
i go to a sand box & try digging for
a reaction. some kind of howl.
instead, i find the plastic dinosaur
i buried & lost years ago. he is just
a skeleton. i debate whether or not
to rebury him & i decide to let the hawks
have their way with his confessions.
truly, everyone's tongue is just
a temporary salamander. in the night
mine goes looking for rocks to tell
the truth to. i don't need
a shoe box for my lungs. i need 
a sail boat. i need a man made lake
where all the shorelines are 
rolled-up sleeves. in the back yard 
the neighbors have a meeting about
my paranoia. i show up & they raise
their hands like "i come in peace."
i raise mine too & then we're praising
the pizza box god. there is no where
to runaway in which there won't be
a whole world playing bluegrass 
behind your head. i turn around
& the music stops. using towels 
as curtains. the daylight bleeds
through a lifted skirt. they are saying
if i don't eat soon they are 
going to call in the elephants.
i sew my mouth shut. at first it was
a protest but now i don't remember
what exactly i was protesting. there is
always something worth a hunger strike.
i find a delivery man & he has
a bag of crickets. he says,
"did you order this?" i blink the eye
in the back of my head. 
see the bruise clouds coming & so 
i take the small bounty from him & run.