Gravity

POETRY

gravity,
my enemy,

i have no fear of you.

i leap— and

taste the primal
blast of wind;

ripcord ignored
flutters wildly,

blue meets green,
ground rushes

toward me;

i live for the fall.

no matter that
i might be splayed

on concrete hot

and unforgiving

or reduced to
a pile of twisted

limbs on the
hood of a chevrolet,

i don’t want
to stop falling.