I’m decades in and it hasn’t gone away.
In all other respects, I am normal. Life
is hard, but I’m not complaining. The thing
is, I am in a constant state of falling. I say
something and I fall through my words. I eat
something and I fall through my food. I step
on the accelerator and I fall right through
the road. I hardly sleep. Dreams are literally
pitfalls. On my last birthday, I was given
a harness. To trick my mind into thinking
I was tied to something. I hooked it to the
radiator and ventured out the door. The straps
broke and I went sprawling. That descent still
hasn’t ended, but how long can one truly fall?
Bill Yarrow is the author of Wrench (erbacce-press, 2009), Wound Jewelry (new aesthetic, 2010), and Fourteen (Naked Mannekin, 2011). His poems have appeared in many print and online magazines, including Poetry International, Confrontation, Rio Grande Review, Ramshackle Review, Istanbul Literary Review, BLIP, DIAGRAM, Pif Magazine, LITSNACK, Now Culture, blue five notebook, Right Hand Pointing, Whale Sound, PANK, and Metazen. He is one of the poetry editors of THIS Literary Magazine. He lives in Illinois.