Falling
Feb 7 2014

In gravity sports,
falling headlong

on the edge of control.
Where the g-force
make eyes bug out

brains, catatonic.
Where a steel-trap mind
makes all of it possible.
And where sudden stops, immovable bottoms

are well beyond

negotiation. 

So why do they call it
falling in love?
Is it like giant slalom
catching a tip?
Is it free-fall
parachute twisted?
Or an open manhole
you just dropped into,
walking along
minding your business?
Like a rock,
straight to the bottom
all the way down.

Are you Wiley Coyote,
brushing yourself off, ever undaunted?
Or the Roadrunner
who never gets caught,

legs a blur

in clouds of dust?

A strange bird.

A flock of one.