Closer To Ghostliness

if you ever wake up one day
more transparent than the day before,
closer to ghostliness than the day before, 

you may feel at first that this is 
the ultimate tragedy toward which 
every act in your obviously broken timeline

has pulled you (or pushed you depending 
on whether it was in your dreams or your past
where it all began). you shall look through 

the formerly corporeal palms of your hands
down at your shimmering feet and see
they are no longer concealing the ground

upon which you walk. you shall sit down,
frightened of sinking through the floor, sifting into
the basement like sand through a sieve.

at least, I did. of course, you may find a difference
between how you disappear and how I am
disappearing. I will just say there was no need

to be so frightened at first on my part because 
I soon realized that little had changed
since I’d never left much footprint behind me

before this, having always trod lightly,
never leaving a mark. instead I found myself
floating, walking as I always had

through the same rooms I’d had for years,
touching common things so casually
it was as if I wasn’t feeling anything as I raised

the coffee cup. from elsewhere in the room
any onlooker would have seen me as not 
entirely there as I sipped, and that

would have seemed entirely normal. I am,
I think, the only person surprised at how little impact
I’ve had on things around me. a see through man,

a whisper of a human, touching but never fully holding
anything. now, at last, I am frightened.
again, your mileage may vary. at least, it should.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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