Graduation

"Are you in despair,
or in thought?" The teacher asked.

"In thought," I replied.

Then came the
Room with the yellow wallpaper,
The chamber to hold
my insanities.

I take a trip to Ingmar Bergman's beaches,
Walking the sand in circles,
Laughing and crying and confused.

Virginia Woolf
Walks into the water,
She has pockets full of stones.

I was asked to stay,
And reality burst open.

Then there were crowds,
And parties.

Graduation parties.

The audience,
The shadows,
The tormentors,
The family,
The friends,
And the strangers
Were all there.

Except one.

So I searched for my resting place.
Instead I found a glass bottle of my spirit,
My title on its label.

It was my diploma.

I don't think they printed my name correctly.

5-14-10