The Edge & I

I’ve never lived on the Edge.
Or near it, really.
Or in the fabulously fabled Center.
I’ve mostly been mired in this marsh of a Middle.
Like a toothless crocodile.

You know the Edge, the legendary Edge.
Seems everybody else has danced on it in toeshoes.
Bragged about making love on it
 in a sleeping bag under the stars.
Setting fires on it
 sending smoke signals to folks
at the other end of the universe
sitting on their Edges sending smoke signals.

I’ve heard tell of the Edge, alright.
But my mother wouldn’t let me go.
It’s so much different now, though.
Life’s ever so much shorter now.

So call me to the Edge and I will come.
But be sincere.
And stand there and wait for me, like you promised.

Yes, if you call and mean it,
I will come.
I will reach for a branch
 and yank myself out of the muck
 and begin to walk.

To where the sun shines from.
And the moon shines over.
To where I’ve never been invited before
 and am somehow expected now.

Yes, I will trudge to the Edge,
 feet heavy with fear and mud from the Middle muck still stuck
 and left to dry
 and by the time I reach it
I will be free
 of the dust of all those centuries.
Clean and whistling.

And when I get there
 if you are there
Why, I will skip along that old Edge.
Why, I will tra-fucking-la at the top of my lungs.
I will waltz and
I will teeter and
I will stand on one leg and
I will dare oblivion to come and get me.

Maybe I will fall
and fall and fall and fall
forever and a day
Maybe I will, so what
At least I’ll have direction
 and the wind in my hair
 and the lightest of hearts
 and no appointments to bore me

Why -- I’ll make it my profession!

Yes, that’s it! I’ll become an expert, first-class faller
 cutting z-shapes in the air
 with my skirt around my ears
 twirling downwards at breathtaking speed
 so that all the folks sitting on branches
 along the side
 are too afraid to wave
 for fear that they’ll fall, too
 and that’ll make me giggle helplessly all the way
down and
down and


...perhaps whilst I were still standing on one leg at the Edge
looking over and out and beyond and through all the illusions,
 I just might decide to fly. one has to go on about flying.
Too much has been made of it already.
Yes, I think to fall might be the more exhilarating of the two.
Spirits fly, so there’s plenty of time for that.

Humans fall, hoorah.

But, ahhh to fall forever, to fall masterfully,
in somersaults and swan dives,
no shrieks of terror,
 only screams of laughter and
 curses of laughter and
 sobs of laughter.
 Now, that
 would be Something.

So, call me to the Edge and I will come.
I will show right up.
I may not choose to fall at first, it’s true.
But push me, if you please.
Tell me that you love me
 and give me a sweet, light shove
 and bid me adieu
 and dangle your legs over
 and eat a sandwich
 and watch me ’til I’m