11432 Poem by RIC BASTASA

ESCAPE ROUTES

I've seen yours
you open a door on a page of a book
and you are gone

been there
and i am back

Yours too
there is a door on the cork of a bottle of wine
you open it and there you are
pretending to be lost
in your own hideaway

yours is dangerous
into that door into that labyrinth where
explosives are adornments
of your chosen confidences

and yours too
a crystal and there too is the tiny door
of your chosen freedom
if you come back
everyone becomes strangers
in a new world
of hallucinations

been to dangers to and bubbles
and a little of that crystal world
and i am back

all escapes are always useless
at the end we are caught and those that catch us
always returns us to ourselves

at long last we have no choice
but to be responsible

i am telling you, i am back
and this is what i mean

i am back to the open
wandering again looking to the stars for directions
and still tripping from one stone to another
as if everything is real

there is only one exit
and none of them are those escape routes
which i have mentioned.