Wacky Wavy Inflatable Arm-Flailing Tubeman

He exhales endlessly, from the top
of his smiling head and out, too, from right
where his hands would be if he had them, waving
at every angle so not even a single blade
of grass feels unrecognized, unloved.
If you watch his floppy dance long enough,
you might begin to see the repetitive nature
of pattern; even in chaos there is a system
designed to appear random, free. But our hero
is not free at all. He is fixed. Standing. Bending
over like a believer in order to realign himself
in the crazy science of his empty faith. Passing by,
you may think little of his airy presence. But then,
he catches a gust of warmth and his body
rolls upward as his soul is squeezed out
of him like toothpaste. Then his face turns
toward the sky, and for a moment the world
disappears. He may as well be some hot-air
balloon, or a kid on the waxing apex
of a swingset. But within this revelation
and without it, he soon folds in half
and falls, effortlessly, like a star.