Christopher M. Lavery

can’t stand up

guaranteed to hellos swept up by tomorrow’s goodnights
and missing frantically what was there
and is now lost into parts of my mind, somehow.

seeping back out into betweens and origins.

you stood there asking me to come in
i find myself asking to come in
a change

hello.

often times here i find myself coming in with no way to let myself out

to multifarious occurrences

i wake this morning, expecting.
getting to know myself with a prodding kind of action

with a stick
with a metaphor
with an obsequious gourd

i am submissive to each beat of my heart

the first appearance is similar to the first appearance: a deception.
a diminutive talking bird is quickly shifted from below
one to another
of three cups.

i am trying to guess the location from a distance
avoiding control

this is the shell game.

and occurrences are happening where i find myself slipping
some might say it is the banana peel on the sidewalk
pealing. loud. harmonious.

some might find a banana in the parking lot
some might see a banana in a dream
some might eat a banana

Undoubtedly, you will eventually dream about bananas.