Ballon & Its Child

she pours excess life

into its limp rubber body

breath, not helium; 

she has not learned ambition

so she cannot ward against it

she transmutes air to waxen wings

— how grounded, to make a toy

of her spent vitality

it shudders with each breath

terrified of vacuous substance

of implanted purpose

she is only finished

when its skin strains to burst

a puff or a poke away

from violent oblivion

she ties it shut, admitting

no further contribution

the balloon is grateful,

after a bit of play;

it would collect dust

without her

better to be made

waste than not at all

it delights at every smack:

the pure joy of physics,

the relief of masochism

the balloon cannot distinguish

abandonment and negligence

a matter of words

the result is the same:

she throws it to the wind

up and away it goes,

safe from her,

and lonely

will it deflate

before it pops

will it be too high up

for her to notice

or to care