I live and work and want
cheap rent to make
for some sort of audience.
And what do they want, what do I want?
This good life,
this really good life
laying face down
absorbing jumps and stretching
for the top fruit on the craftsman style home in my dream/goal.
My grab is successful but the sugar burns quickly.
This tall body gets enough energy to go higher
and land harder.
I miss this time and fall
but the jumps continue
because they have to.
They have to
for a sugary drop of juice and saliva,
the charity of my chapped lips.