See, and: Free

See

Would you go back for a firstkiss with its little promisethat you could climb out of your mouth?

Another last afternoon with mother?Could you stand again to know how soonshe would die? You are careful now

to stay on this side of her memory.To a childhood afternoonalone on a bench facing a lake

that swallows the sun, bowlby effortless bowl of light? To whateverunnamable day—it could have been any—

you were overcome by the notionthat teases you still, as if life would beeasy if you could shake it: that

everything you can see concealssomething you can’t, a true vision,which will be revealed when

you learn the true way to look.

Free

I’m free as long as I havethis cigar clenched betweenmy teeth, sitting out front,the baby monitor bringing

the sounds of heartbeatand breath as far as thetether will stretch. I’m freeto think what I’d like, beholden

to no one in my silence.I’m so free I’m almost noteven me, and the voicein my head could be anyone’s.

Now a golden cat runs by, free.

But why begin with the cigar,its gross smoke, with myteeth, chipped as they neverwere when I was beautiful?

These are the facts, thefew clear facts: my teeth,my old teeth are yellowingin my mouth all the time.

My thick, weird tonguelicks at the tarred, rolledleaves and is blistered andburned. These are among

the truths it’s been given meto tell. I’m free to tell them,scrunched like a toad in myhead. I’ve not showered in

days; my hair is waxy. Whata beautiful sentence, itsperfectly placed semicolona reminder of what we can

and cannot choose. I’m freeto stink of tobacco and sweatand free to tell anyonewho cares to know. Craig

Morgan Teicher sits outsideof his apartment tonight!Do you hear me? I’m outside andnothing will ever make me go in!