Is something like freefall,
nothing to hold on to,
the world rushing up to find us
and the wind sucking out
the habits of the ears and eyes.
Or it is like a caged tiger
who knows he is not home,
who is angry at the passing
of time and of those who
wanted to hold him this way.
We look at magazines, television,
the road out the front of our car
and we see nothing
but the habits of our mind.
We drive toward satisfaction
but other drivers make us late.
It may be time to open our parachute,
time to open our eyes,
watch and wait for the right time
to kill our ephemeral masters
and escape.
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