abstract 6


there are no round corners

my imagination is akimbo

jolts of current spark within context

without setting light

What to do?


I gather the dexterity needed

and carry it to the scales

only to find

it weighs more than I do


my skin is transparent

I employ a magnifying glass

angling towards the sun

the beam passes right through me

blazing and unhindered


I bulk up

looking for muscular advantage

and slip easily into the crowd

our words are hot but cool off fast

leaving nuggets between my teeth


I turn invisible

and pass easily through the crowd

floating a few inches off the ground

I still stub my toe

while leaving no footprints


I want to weep like a child

but worrying about the leak

I put duct tape on my face

covering my mouth

leaving space for my eyes


awkward and exploding

my imagination

is no longer rooted

in safe ground

I am uncomfortable

I am vulnerable

profusely sweating

in the slipstream


painting and poem: Jana H. White