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Gravity Freewrite 2.27.13

Like a balloon trapped
in a hug
between an anvil and asphalt,
still surprised by it’s capacity
and endurance, laughing:
“Squeeze me tighter;”
gloating in the millisecond
before it succumbs to
all of the things
that Newton tried to
tell us about apples and hearts;

this swollen pride
before the popping
sounds of rubber bubbles bursting
is always forgotten
as we question whether
the noise it leaves hanging in the air
is an isolated incident, or
the first shot of a massacre

we have grown
the way we make our living
trying to re-interpret
the meanings and
consequences of

and we seem, so often
to change the channel
and miss whether or not
we stuck the landing.