The Straight Jacket Poem by RIC BASTASA

i am trying to shape
a world
with my own private thoughts
away from the mob

i am situating myself in a room
on closed doors and closed windows
except the light that i allow to enter
on glassy blocks
the walls will always be there
air comes through the ceiling
on tiny holes

i tried to forget viewing the stars
i must survive even without the light of the moon
it is less romantic
and i am no lunatic

but then she hints on what am i
saying: the fish is meant for the sea
the dog is always meant for a walk
the sparrow cannot live without flying on its wings

and she asks me: will you just be a poet?
or will you be the man for the seasons?

before she left, she left a note stuck on the fridge
magnetically: you are more than the fish, the sparrow, the dog

must i be? i sleep tightly like a straitjacket.