Mark Jarman Cliffhanger Thoughts hung by their fingernails
On the ledge of his forehead.
Dreams pierced his earlobes.
Notions joined him in bed.He felt like an ecosystem,
A swarm of competing desires.
His eyes were petrie dishes,
His extremities prairie fires.So this—a thought fell past
His sight—so this was life,
Here in the 21st century,
The tuning fork and the knife.He sat, feeling this feeling.
He rose to go to work,
In a loose cloud of compulsions,
Like fireflies in the half-dark.