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GENIE IN A BOTTLE

Fearing dangerous days
I escape to myself

like chain-gang films or the 1940s
razor wire festoons my skull;

Days are dark, yet I dream in color
I am no grim eulogist of virtue

enemy of pleasure

I am slabbed
across a table of my own making

thoughts cordoned off
with ropes, veins

so slowly the snow melts
this little utopia

as you grant me just one wish
I ask for my own small bottle

stoppered against invasion
a hand-blown glass

comfort is a cage

and not the other way around
slave to magic
slave to enchantment

smooth glass
sliding along inside

the richness of night, I fend off
a day full of fear
unwanted guest
mind imagining Other

 

February 10, 2003

Norman, Oklahoma