The Escapists

You’ve got to get me out of this.

But my hands are tied. Besides, you ought to know better.

That does me no good if I can’t help myself.

Try this.

It won’t work.

Do you want my help or not.

I’m starting to wonder. What’s freedom like.

Sigh. Another knot.

So many.

You’re not ready. Hold on. Untie me first.

I’m trying. Wait.

It’s no use. It’s not worth it.

How would you know.

Good point.

Featured Art: Oxygen by Petros Athanasiou

Reality/Freedom

Hatched cocoons of body bags
bleed to fill the levees
and incite cyclone ballets

above our sequined city.
Surprised by the sudden
tragic distraction,

our brains surge with disbelief
before their silt resettles;
the rainbow backdrop

cleaves, suborned by the normal,
but soon is being stitched.
A hand reaches through,

desperate to be given birth,
but in its language
our kindness

bites, and it flinches back
to truth’s dark womb.
The rabbit I caged

died alive and wild,
its force escaping
to the space it was excluded.

Featured image: The City in my Mind,
oil on canvas by Luis Ortega Lopez.

Image used with permission from the artist.