To the prosthetic person with the plastic pieces
That present a choke hazard to children
And adults alike,
Let Pegasus out.
I know he’s in there.
I can hear him banging a tin can
Against the bars of your rib cage.
I know your heart has horsepower.
Let’s be real here.
No one needs a stethoscope to hear it beat.
Everybody can hear your stampede.
Those aren’t butterflies in your stomach.
That is Pegasus trying to fly.
That is your factory of fantasy.
Your fulgurized larynx
That crystalized lightning.
That song or that story that’s stuck in your throat.
I know it’s scary.
But it’s okay if you never own anything imported
Or be anyone important.
You are more than mere acquaintance material.
You are not just novel.
You are a whole fucking festival of lights.
Spin like Sufis
In your Risky Business best.
Your eyes are geysers.
Your gut is growling.
Silent and violent like a library moshpit,
There is a coup inside of you.
Let it out.