Episode

I am falling through the cool air,
and it looks very funny,
except I am falling through it this time
with the laughter coming from nowhere
like absolutely nothing: empty laughs, perhaps
desperate, perhaps screams. The air is not getting warmer
like a game should, but my heart beats
as if boiling before someone says
that it isn’t: my mind is staying up high. No—my mind
is low or like absolutely nothing, that is
saying I’m not boiling, that is saying
it is not
over me—that it is over me—
that I should be over it… But then I am not
falling either: it is the cool air being pulled
away; I am not moving:
I have never been very visual—still screams—so the air
is now a controlled cloud through which I understand
the government
and my family and my health—the heart—meaning
it can only be extremely funny now, though not cool:
I am taking my coat hanger off; I am close to being housed

by nothing, near the ground (I am making it!)
soft earth (I have made it
remembering where my mind was) which is not
too special and the clouds have been replaced:
I may as well be alive. I laugh along in smoke.