13-35

My Mind and I

My mind slipped through a backdoor
to watch the stars explode,
to watch diamonds shower through the sky,
and pan the mother lode.

My mind ran off to Africa
to help, to bleed, to hide.
My mind walked by the ocean
and sat on a rock and cried.
My mind walked into the woods
hoping to lose the trail.
My mind sealed itself in an envelope
and relied on U.S. mail.
And when it felt it couldn't cope,
my mind considered doing dope.

So I put my mind on the bus to work
and told it not to look
or touch or taste or learn at all,
just to sit and read its book.
But it made balloons of stoplights
and vanished through the trees.
So if my mind you come across,
won't you have it write home, please.

'Cause while I stay and pay my bills
for my rooms and books and bread,
my mind is slipping through back doors
far above my head.

by Tracy Koretsky

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Available in print

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If you printed out even half the stuff Tracy Koretsky has written, dumped it into a big net strung out across the ceiling, stood beneath, then let it drop, you would suffocate. Pile up the stuff that has been published and stand on top of it and you could probably reach the cookie jar on the uppermost shelf. Alas. Still, more than anything, Tracy loves to be read, so help yourself to audio poems and chapters, author interviews, and a download of her memoir in poems: www.TracyKoretsky.com