atop a column i view
the world i look down on
all the people and up at
the birds
who shit on my head
and i laugh
i eat very little
children tie snacks to balloons and float them up to me
that’s how i sometimes
catch dinner
around me is a clearing circled by trees almost as tall as my
column
which is very tall
in whose branches dangle
thousands of ribbons and rubber of every color
snacks i missed tied to the bottom of some
people wander through sometimes and pick food i missed
from the trees
they joke
“look! a bread tree!”
and laugh
and eat
and i laugh too
i used to get sunburned
but i became so brown i no longer know if i can burn
i look peculiar to the little white faces
when i peek over the edge
of my platform atop the column
children dare each other
to climb it
to see me
sometimes they fall
sometimes they fall many feet
sometimes they die
and i laugh
mostly i sit with my
bald pate bared to god
thinking about
god
the sky
goodness
evil
time
anything really
it started as a noble pursuit
now i mostly try not to be bored
i mounted the column after i built it
had the scaffold disassembled
and told the people i would not come down
until i attained enlightenment
i spent many years focused on breathing
poses
thought exercises
and eventually grew
simply
bored
i no longer remember what it was like to live among people
nor do i wish to really
but i like to watch them
down there
laughing
eating
dying
they come out of the trees and act like beasts and i love them
now they can not
touch me
except by balloon
occasionally i get a note
attached to a balloon
often it’s a wish
the children think
if i catch and read their dream
it will come true
i laugh
i occasionally scrawl a reply
and toss it down in a little crumpled ball
like rubbish
as so many words are always
wont to be
occasionally i get asked advice
and i laugh
for all the practical knowledge i’ve acquired sitting atop the column
pertains to untying balloon knots
keeping food from staling
how to poop over an edge of my platform without falling
but i still respond
ball up the paper
toss it over
sometimes i still have a thought
and i laugh
ball up an imaginary wad of words
and toss it over the side of my platform
like so much shit
it is quieter now
i am quieter now
and i sit
in wait of a time
when all the babble stops
and the sun fails to rise
no more thoughts come
and i laugh
