invisible fence

the trouble is that the fence is never 
in the same place. i go running in search
of a raspberry bush & then there i am
at the edge of the words i have left.
sometimes the flies are fat & sometimes
they are just little flecks of hunger.
i dance headless as them. 
the raspberries turn into bed bugs & the city
wilts in august. i take a train without anyone else
inside just to get smacked with a fence.
i throw myself from the moving car
in an attempt to not be vivisected. 
the neighbor's dog used to have one 
just like this. i would watch the creature
bound right up to the halo. stand there
deciding whether or not he would accept
the shock collar consequences of his 
curiosity. as with most things, there is 
a decision between the pain of waiting
& the pain of breaking. neither are ideal.
i dream of flight. of alien abduction. 
lifted from the sand & into a worth i
do not have. they say heaven is above
because anywhere we can't reach is also 
a place without borders. i try to dig a hole 
beneath the fence. it just goes deeper
& deeper until we are at the core 
& our fingernails have dirt & grist in them. 
i write my name on one of the posts.
think of that one day when the dog
did push past. he ran all over town
while his owners chased him weeping.
escape involves betrayal. what was he looking for?
the dog got hit be a car & lived. that last part
was a lie i just didn't want to end
with the truth. they never took the fence down
or got another dog. in the dark i would see 
him running on the outside of the fence. 
once i went with him. he climbed into the clouds 
with our other tiny gods.