I can still stand
I can stand still
on earth as it is in heaven
eyes open but disconnected
alone but disinterested
in a crowd of minglers
Through my skull, my skeleton
the souls of my shoes
through the wooden floor
I listen
as deaf Beethoven listens
as I have heard damaged scissors
through my elbows
The wooden floor is a felled tree
I will not say dead
the time of death is incalculable
potential's end?
potential has been transformed
tree is wood
now a medium
now, in a sense, better at human communication
conducting differently
If we'd put it in a very large vase
with plenty of water
on an enormous table
we'd have said it was alive
"what a beautiful tree we have"
now it keeps us from falling out of my house
through this soundboard
guests ring for me
sine nor saw
waves complex and changing
physical forms
I dance slowly with them
Through the window the other trees
100 feet tall
my eyes now on
across a field
just behind them on the blue sky a grid
the grid interfaces with the multi-paned window
the actual scale of window grid has been imposed on sky grid
the trees are one foot tall
I pluck the trees like garden weeds
gently shaking dirt from their roots
or snap them with a hollow pop
invasive reeds
or earthquake crack and fractal splinter them
like real 100 foot trees
only now one foot tall
a weed acting like a tree
I dance with my guests
