Eden

Anvil black Armani suit
buffeted like riptide flotsam,
zig zags above Italian ox-blood shoes,
cold pressed between anonymous travelers,
in this caffeinated Frankfurt airport .

Sweet baby doll with pink frills,
crazy cuckoo clock,
wrapped and bagged,
on the upper deck,
jumbo jetting across the restless ocean,
to present my gifts,
in Seattle.

Head pounding,
mind swinging,
somersaulting smartly from one
earth shattering thought to another,
incessantly talking,
introvert transformed
into outrageous comic.

You need a vacation
says a woman at work,
after a uniquely charismatic
belly busting trip debrief.

Alarmingly psyched up for weeks,
only drink can make me drowsy,
just for a couple of hours,
until I bolt upright.

Her sweet scent intoxicating,
Eve lies groggy from
our molten arguments,
eye lids swollen red from angry tears.

Eve, wake up!
The end is near!
Hear the trumpets!
The trumpets!
The Kingdom of God is near!

Currents of ecstasy tug me hard
like a kite rising to the heavens,
while the freight train rumbles,
through this sleeping town,
filling the air with
pedestrian warnings

Perplexed at my irrational behavior
my old man drives me
to the hospital,
I yank the steering wheel
like a blue marlin,
injecting him with adrenalin.

I voluntarily commit,
with deadly certainty,
the end
is ever,
so
excruciatingly,
near.

I serve up a fresh cup of steaming urine
offering bounteous wildly manic
blind back extensions
down the hall
stopping
miraculously
before crashing into the wall,
amazing even myself,
I smugly exit,
stage right
into my hospital room.

Five stories below,
tiny people stream in and out,
like ants from a subterranean nest,
while the sun shines down from the blue heavens.

A sliver of doubt
slithers
across my mind.

Like a giant gong
at a Chinese fire drill,
I roar,
Help! Help!
out the window,
at the ants below,
Nurse Ratchet
is after me!

My room swells,
with doctors, nurses and staff,
swarming quietly around me
lie down,
lie down in your bed.

I issue obscenities
and unrepeatable remarks,
like an octopus, many hands spread out
grabbing my arms and legs
tightly binding me,
with leather straps,
to this bed.

Strained to its seams,
too histrionic for this hospital,
I am shipped in the middle of the night,
by flashing ambulance,
under tight security,
to be involuntarily committed.

Sequestered in this sterile cell
wrists, ankles, and waist
strapped to this lumpy bed
head craning
towards the locked door

I glare towards the small square reinforced window,
the silhouette of a head peeks in
at this wild thrashing, twisting,
sweating,
beast.

Where is my Eve?
I want to see Eve.
Swelling with my first born,
who will gasp her first grey breath,
and scream
out her destiny,
without
me.

© 2012 M. Tsai

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