Perspective

(Dedicated to Kandace)

I endure almost assistantless day,
making a valiant effort not to contract
to the bug that wrapping them
each around pincher fingers in turn
and squeezing human insides
until they vomit or crap on themselves.

Only later,
do I realize
it’s also a day when
the writer gets to organize
the organizer gets to dance,
and the dancer gets to write,
and my whole self gets to remember
rainbows are hidden behind clouds.