JumperWatchListenReadJumperDaughter,
The first time you asked me Why I had to work in such a tall building, I told you it was because I worked in the cloud factory. That every fluff and puff You ever laid in the yard and watched morph Into ducks and rabbits and unicorns Was my doing. I told you I had a typewriter That produced a whisp with each keystroke, And after I’d authored each one’s bio I’d bundle the pieces into one light, fluffy package And give them a subtle nudge Just to get them going past the glass, And as my silken children soared, I imagined their jet streams served as kite strings, Carrying me off on flights of fancy As I daydreamed, Wishing I could find some way To fly. But today, I looked outside to find An airplane checking it’s reflection on our building. It’s twin turbines Staring straight into the pane of our glassy eyes Like it was looking for the answer To a question left unspoken, And for a moment, It sat completely frozen, Framed by a clear New York morning, A silent September sky Completely free of clouds. The shockwave swallowed sound; Even now, The clang of steel on steel Reverberates From our ear drums down our vertebrae. As the smoke slowly lumbers up the staircase, On its way to show us Why people always imagined The dead Head up to the clouds. We covered our mouths, At first in horror… Then out of necessity.. Our skin has begun to blister, And some of us Have resigned to becoming cinders, Our tear ducts The only piece of us Still putting up a fight. But that’s not how I will die. I refuse to go out Like a wax tower with a lit wick Just slow burning down to an inevitable flickering end Like my life has been wasted, I will not just wait for asphyxiation, I will escape this steel chimney, And amidst the snowstorm of papers I will take this final chance To decide what my fate is So daughter, I must ask of you one final favor. Please don’t remember me, As whatever impression Gravity makes of Picasso With the brushstrokes of my bones Against the concrete, Instead, Compress good memories into crayons. Give them names like “Grass blades between our toes green” And “sky canvass blue” And then use them to paint me Beautiful. Paint me wonderful. Paint me in shades of unicorns and angels and clouds, And whatever else flies with enough power To hold up the two ends of your mouth So that my name never makes them fall into a frown; When you feel weak, Draw me Like I’m a kindergarten turkey So you’ll always know I’m within your hands reach. Whenever you need strength, Paint me like a DaVinci flying machine, Or like I was built with wings of steel And a heart so strong Even an army of men armed to the teeth With box cutters, Trying to come crashing through your dreams Will never take you down! And sing for me, daughter. With your voice paint my name in silence, Let the notes soar through the sky till they find me And remember Although we all go from ashes to ashes Not all of us fall, daughter. Some of us Jump |