You are watching this show, set up at the dusty corner
across from your comfort where you were hoping to find
lemonade and instead you got 
old box as a stage with two flashlights taped Into corners as


strings pull my hands to this keyboard all
cardboard and tape
my jaw points to the cottonball sky
my heart to the painted forest
my knees to the scattered earth
I want my wooden heart all
Broken and bored through to be 
Remember, please, when I say this, that this show cost you nothing

There is a latch there, right where anyone would guess it would be
To My heart
Brass and worn, sticky but not stuck.
If no one was looking
(No one is looking)
You might just be able to thumb the catch free.