vacation mirror 

if you are brave enough you can
have a vacation anywhere. sometimes 
in the middle of a stressful sentence
i will take a vacation. the psychologist
in the room will call it dissociation 
but i call it paddle boat. i call it 
white water. i call it a porch without
any bottom to it. the deer are eating
the house. the house is also 
eating the deer. i call you & you are 
furious about something i can't remember doing.
my backyard is a vacation but only
when there is a thunderstorm. when you don't
text me back i think "did i ask
for too much?" at the beach no one has
heads anymore. there is a new corporation
who will remove your head & replace it 
with a pot & fake flowers for 
no small fortune. everyone reports it 
makes them feel "less stressed." i think truly
we should probably be more stressed.
an empire is always dissociating. eyes like
fried eggs staring through whoever it can. 
i try to be alive as best i can. in the woods
we eat jelly mushrooms from a rotted log.
they are as orange as all my dreams. 
when you finally call me it is late. too late
for any of this. you ask me if we are 
still going to go to the big event. i do not
remember the big event but i play along
hoping my recollections of the commitment
will return to me. they never do. i am unsure
if i am missing a promise or if we 
just needed to mirage together a little.
in another life i think everything was
really really smooth. the leaves. the trees.
your teeth. my beard. all of it like glass.
i paint one side so we can see ourselves.
the mirror, not quite a portal but maybe
someday. i am having a vacation right now
& i have as many as i can today.