I fell, I fell, I fell, I
felt
awful flown over
or under
on that long ride from the tip–
top of the tower
about how I was told
and re-told
and cajoled
and implored
“promise you won’t jump”, but
in solidarity I reached the
only conclusion-a question:
“Did he just dare me to jump?”
every wall was a last will and spray paint indictment
maybe the wiretap still snitches
dissent and art and socialist riches
they all seemed to have bested my rendition of savant
though, as you grew closer, frightful
approaching as reproaching
it was clearly presumptuous to believe in safety nets
in circus tents
I was spent,
pleading
I fell, I fell, I fell,
I.

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