You’re Every Move You Make*

Like all of us, he begins as a dot; the crowd would retain its definition without him. He knows gaslight only as a noun. When the eye zooms in to make out his identity, two men emerge to grasp his arms, to rush him to trial. He begins to replace what his eyes know, washes his face with maggots. The only faith he owns is the tickle of tarantula. He is sentenced for implanted crimes, tossed in a descending elevator, a blatant message. Unwilling to wait, to replay the force of claws on bare skin, he escapes to a rooftop. Suited men surround him, animals turned to men turned to animals, a line over a number after a decimal point. His faith looks past the suits to skyscrapers, to the don’t-look-down. He knows what a leap would be for a man. He knows. Midway through the rush toward sidewalks, toward the hair-covered tops of dots, he becomes the hawk he had always believed in. Floating against traffic, he will live to consume the larvae of nightmares.

*Title is a lyric from “Owner of a Lonely Heart” by Yes (#1 on Billboard Hot 100, 1984).

Daniel M. Shapiro has attended a World Series Game 7, edited a lingerie catalog, and been called “gorgeous” by Burt Reynolds. His book of celebrity poems, How the Potato Chip Was Invented, was published by Sunnyoutside Press in 2013.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.