They said it was life-sized, as if that actually told you something.
They said it was life-sized, and I don’t even remember what it was that they were selling.
I got offended or maybe it was confused.
I tuned out the customers’ testimonials, how they’d all had their lives changed.
I did not see the 800 number, and the man with the deep voice urging me desperately to order now.
When they said it was life-sized, I took this sideways journey in my brain.
I thought about myself:
There have been times that the my life
Filled up these tremendous open spaces.
It leaked down and filled up the grand canyon.
It piled up and scratched the underside of puffy white clouds ’till they were flat grey.
If I hadn’t danced and sang, and held you, in those times.
I think I would have exploded.
But that would have been o.k., too.
I would have laughed while I burst.
And then there have been these times.
I wrapped my arms around my shins and pulled them in,
So tight that I might break my ribs with my thighs
Sometimes life-size is electron-microscope small.
If I were pulled any tighter in on myself
I’d be turned inside out.
I’d be a black hole.
I’d be a negative number.
Don’t tell me it’s life sized.
I don’t care if you’re operators are standing by.
I don’t know what that means.
It could mean anything.