Slinky Mister

 

I’d like to be a slinky mister

A spectral individual

A spidery kind of guy

Limbs wandering out across the sofa

As I recline, majestic loafer

A personality extended, 

Stretched

Refined

I want to cast a shadow that is longer

Thinner, knife-like, sleek and slender

A spiky shadow, Nosferatu

A stark expressionist meander 

I don’t mean taller,

That won’t help

I can jump

I can climb

I can stand on things to reach high shelves

I don’t need to be 

Higher

It’s the curvature,

The shape

The unspooling of myself

That I desire

I want to be a spiny shape that 

Runs like ink across the world

This wound up spring, uncurling slowly

Would I be better?

It feels like it

If I had Lowry’s brushstrokes in my bones

No need to shout or jump

To artificially extend myself across the cracks

I make in every room.

I’d lounge, instead,

A scattered shadow of tree branches

A broken, jagged spider’s web

A cutting fellow

An undone conundrum

A looping, loping counterweight

A scribbled note, slowly unfolding

A mess of limbs

Great at Twister

A strung out Summer cloud

A fine recliner

An uncoiled man

A slinky mister