don’t think while flying

In the shadow of a fire truck we played dice.
Snakes were coiling around everything –
tree branches, wires, pipes, our legs –
but we forgot all we had been taught about them.
You said that if not for your scoliosis
you would have always worn odd shoes.
It doesn’t mean shit to me, you said,
how it would look, I just like it.
It is a proper thing to do, man.
Flies caught in our coffee bloomed into oblivion.
We were able to extract understanding from everywhere
but couldn’t learn the names of the fingers.
Nor could we invent the names for the toes,
the titles of paperback novels we had never read
stained with biscuits we had never eaten,
the names for trees, for fish, for numbers,
the names of our neighbors – hunchbacks,
hairdressers, soothsayers and retired colonels.
We were not angels and we hadn’t fallen,
we abandoned our mission millennia ago,
we were ashamed to expose our wings,
we didn’t know for sure how many of them
each of us might have boasted.
We didn’t care to protect the soil we walked on,
The stars we ate. Even geese didn’t like us.