panic room

o blender moon i have a blade for us.
with the syrup in a bottle of legs.
i sometimes try to run from my face.
there are monkeys on the side of the road
preparing for a new evolution where 
they too have video games. i lock the doors.
i lock the windows. i buy as much as i can
online. lots of notebooks & even
a box of turkish delight so that my sugar
will be blooming & lovely. the knives 
in my house are dull. the ceiling is rusted
& inhabited by the ghosts of bats. 
i enjoy having a nice panic in the afternoon
when there is really nothing else to do
with a pair of wings. i dislike when people
day "the apocalypse" as if there is only
one way all of this goes down. instead, i 
prefer quick words like "this danger"
& "this heat." in my favorite panic room
i have a picture of all of us before i knew
exactly how evil things could get. in the picture
i have worn out our eyes by looking at us.
a mirror breaks itself. in the panic room
there is only one telephone. you cannot dial it.
whatever comes is what comes. sometimes 
it is my father. often it is my lover asking,
"where are you, i have searched every ocean?"
i beg for him to join me. to panic with me
in a place where we don't have to be real,
we can just be mania. when i return i try
my best to follow in my family tradition
of pretending nothing at all happened. smile.
open the windows over night so that tall men
have somewhere to sleep. moonless night.
a playground arriving from no where.
i know what a trap is when i see it. i swallow 
the key. catch us inside & crawl into 
a pillow case that smells tree sap & hair.