Assistance

by Tom Piccirilli

Come to think of it, I really have known a lot of breakdowns
who’ve found themselves past the limit, pushed past the cliffs
of various abysses by the malevolent trivia
of ordinary matters—
it’s damned scary to hear them say
what brushed them that far,
with so much already behind me, so much of it surrounding me,
and this guy staring into my eye and saying he recognizes
all the signs,
points to my quivering left hand, my tapping foot,
and says he used to do that right before—
looks at my spastic handwriting and tells me
he used to scrawl just like that—
that bastard’s getting on my nerves, it makes me think
that he might be wandering up behind the rest of us
with his arms out, willing to help us on our way
with just a little push.
Last I heard, he was back in the bin again, but
he’s always got plenty of fresh company.

© Tom Piccirilli, 2003

From Tom Piccirilli's Collection, “This Cape is Red Because I’ve Been Bleeding,” published by Catalyst Press, NYC, 2002