Out of Doors by Will Mayo

What we think is not always what we speak.

Marbles roll around

In the back of our heads

Like pinwheels on the trail of lost stars.

We mumble and speak

And roll our heads

Like zombies on the pivots of scarecrows.

Eyes roll too

And look out crosseyed at the world.

We try to tell the onlookers,

“Really,

We’re quite sane.

Saner than you think.”

But they shrug their shoulders

And look at us

Out of the corners of their eyes.

And the final words are theirs:
“This is a Christian establishment.

Can’t you see?”

As you walk out the door,

You glance up, then down again.

The sidewalk is now your home

And the pinwheels and stars

A place to become whole again.

Your religion, the lost words.

Will Mayo