Poem: Unease

You put me in a straitjacket

saying I was waving my arms around too much.

You closed in tighter

saying I was breathing too loudly.

Now I'm not moving — and I'm not breathing.

But I can see you all the more clearly.

And I can sense your uneasiness mounting.

You roam around

Pace up and down

Keeping an eye on me

And thinking frantically

That you need to do something.

Something more effective.

But not too effective:

if you were to kill me

you'd cease to exist.

"But no other solution is presenting itself."

Maybe you'll have to live

with that feeling of unease

— my straitjacket presence reminding you

of the possibility of your death.

(When the straitjacket is no longer enough

to divert the subversion.)

... Afrodity Giannakis

From GLW issue 201