• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 09

Grasp the Gasp

I drown in the gaze of the crumple-horned cow, 
Crossroad decisions flooding over me,
Eyes challenging me, spurring me on.
An unlikely lure into the dense forest,
Where woody fingers bend and beckon,
Not the gatekeeper I expected.
The placid face almost shrugs,
They don’t care what I choose,
No skin off their back if I walk away.

Holding my breath, I pause.
Do I ask to be flown to the moon,
Or will it hurtle into the deep cold of the outer lake?
Is my last gasp under water, or out in space,
Asphyxiation either way.

Moonwalk, spacewalk, city sidewalk;
Boardwalk over the water baby,
It’s the only way to fly.

A snort of hot sweet meadow air,
The horn begins to turn,
If I don’t grasp it now I’ll regret it.
Drawn by the call of the clarion,
The tail swings as we take the first step,
Bursting moon bubbles along the way.