Trapdoor

Ink around eyes fills the end of the tunnel

But don’t fly up like usual; daytime has no funnel.

Do not look at me, please do not look at me

I’m not myself tonight just the victim you bury.

A ring of birds sing ’round the head or some stars

Languid little dizzy doe followed by the white car.

The arms are stiff from gripping wheels tight and fast

And versed in concealment so today will need no mask.

At last elusiveness was managed to pause

only applied to one who knew the way of that law.

Time passes, time stops, time continues to shock

Persistently pressing on to compose my own clock.

I am the picture in the frame that’s stared at

Though I empathize as a memory more than that;

I am the flies or the ants in your periphery-

I know they disappear at the second see.

A car cannot get to a mechanic if

The thing never drives out of the garage where it sits.

Plenty up your sleeve with tricks like Houdini

You won’t do for yourself but at least do it for me.