the impossible is waving 

its big fat arm 

issuing me forward

"it's your turn"

the saxophone's blare drowns out my every screaming thought

a grin tears through your face

"come on, everyone's doing it

take that leap off the high dive into the ice below"

where my heart will most definitely stop ticking or at least shudder

forever

you lift your habit and do a tarantella across the floor

"come on, there's no choice

give me your only son

bind him

lay him upon the slab of wood provided" 

i shatter into a million pieces but

no one notices i'm missing parts 

"hand me your suitcase, your clothes, shave your head, and oh yes, one more thing

throw your boy into the pit of bullet-ridden children" 

who said god had a heart?

"look over there, in that pagoda. 

they are praying for you. 

doesn't that make you feel better?"

my skin dries off my skeleton and falls to ash 

still my feet stand firmly rooted where you chalk a batter's box around me 

leaving only my eyes to wander across the crowd who've arrived for the show

i watch the wind up

knowing my arms have no bones, but 

i'm going to stand here until it slams into my face

"see there, that man with the fancy fob watch is telling you it's going to be okay."

my brain melts and migrates south, looking to escape my body

the pandemonium coming from my mouth channels into the cry of the last Humpback

"come on, i have folks waiting

you think you're the only one?"

but i can't move

"it's okay, we have a contingency plan.  we do all the work for you.  just sit there and watch Wheel of Fortune

we'll send you a bill."

you whistle 'The Fishin' Hole' while you reach right in and

take my soul as a down payment, then

dance off to the next person in line

leaving me waiting for your return