Body sat, glum in the sunny casita,
Discussing self and soul again with puppet.
Money and memory were my two deceptions
I offered to a world that valued both when I
Had neither but could make a convincing
Mistake. I was so unbearably easy to believe,
Unbearably easy for me. The fluffy fairies
Of numbers, ghosts, floated in the light.
Puppet danced. I wish I could be puppet,
Complained self, unnoticed in the corner
Despite being the topic of interminable
Conversation. Body shrugged and felt
Uncomfortable, as usual. No one knew
What soul had gotten up to, and no one,
Whatever the topic, really cared. The world
Readied to foreclose on the entire discussion
And diligently mailed notices to that effect.
Puppet kept dancing and chanted benignly,
I forgot what I was I going to say next.
I neglected another payment on the rent.
I shall sing as if I had money in the bank
And exact memories of each day in the tank.
A cactus spread its ugly arms beyond
The door ajar, living in the way body could
Only dream of living, selfless, soulless,
Free from art, conversation, and numbers,
A grizzled mess of spiny hairs on long stems
That did nothing but metabolize and grow.
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