Chasing that Bird

Wile E. Coyote

I was raised on Looney Tunes reruns
and Jesus, so I know what happens
if you look down. The effect is
more or less the same,
whether you jog off the edge of a cliff,
or decide you, too, can be a water skipper,
climbing over the gunwale of your boat…
For all I know, two weeks have passed since
there was solid ground under my feet,
but I need to keep walking. Chasing that bird.
Step by step, following the rabbi,
who has a thing or two to teach me
about pride. Here I am, in the middle of the poem,
and yes, it is very hard to keep my eyes fixed
straight ahead. Even now, friends, I want
to take a quick glance back
over my shoulder—though that is no better.
Considering the amount of sodium I eat,
it is surprising I haven’t yet turned into a pillar of salt.
Somewhere in all these stories, there’s a lesson
about what you should and shouldn’t do with your eyes…
But, speaking of Sodom and Gomorrah,
I hear the Dead Sea is drying up, like so many other bodies
of water. Good news for Morton’s.
That little girl with the umbrella never gets her feet wet.
I guess she has an unshakeable faith.