In a trance I reside,
blind without my cave and useless
without my unfolded shoelace temper tantrums.

I would skate
if momentum provided the pleasure a tether
can give.

I pull on restraints, gnash teeth,
fall below
where I thought was appropriate
for a creature of my caliber. But

there’s always room
for an unexpected curse
and a living room
comprised of nothing
but fleas.