day THIRTEEN HUNDRED and NINETY ONE

Credibility Gap

In the best country in the world
in the best hospital
with the best doctors
the best, the best of everything
and you, snuffle breathing
hard pain like a knee
pinning you down
by your thick neck

in your fever dream
you kick up the dirt
path through the trees
to the mountaintop
under the creamsicle
moonlight and you
alone, alone you
crest the final crest
of your lifelong self-
pity, the always
victim of the others
blame game
your sweat rancid
orange dye running

you glance down, down
from your gilty pinnacle
to another future
spread out below
like a plaid picnic blanket
in a dandelion meadow
in a forested valley
full of raucous birdsong
such beauty
you can see now
how pretty
untouchable
a good life is
letting go
of all the lies
you've told, tell
yourself
to turn away
to the mirror of the sun
above you
reaching, clinging
to the story you've told
all your sorry life

and you wake up
cured, curing
like a side of pink ham
roaring, rasping you
burst back on stage
start up the rampage
the liar and the fury
from your gilty balcony
above it all
above the rest
of the damaged world

--Mickey Corrigan