sometime between 1991 and 1997
a poem for younger readers from my hypertext novel axel-and-alice
Fat words
When I’m happy
I speak big words
that clatter on a silver plate
like chrome sausages
in Detroit
or plastic hamburgers
in Taiwan
When I’m happy
I stand closer to people
they can breathe me in
they smell my pores
they touch me
in the inner membranes
When I’m happy
flowers that I can’t identify
pour out of every orifice
like I want to kiss the world
with every part
of my intimate
being
When I’m happy
distant tubas
in underground train stations
burst into song
and the bars of untouched xylophones
shimmer till midnight
under a tropical sky
When I’m happy
dogs follow me through shopping malls
and small children
leave their parents in the park
all their trails of melted icecream
on the hot black streets
lead to me
When I’m happy
my problems that seemed as intricate
as spaghetti
unwind like straight hair of a swimmer
who plunges through cold water
to save a drowning
child
When I’m happy
every word that’s spoken to me
sounds like a flute note
carved cheerfully
by an old man
in a log
cabin
When I’m happy
angels attend me
they wear sneakers and tracksuits
and ID bracelets
with a secret insignia
that spells
my name
When I’m happy
parked cars roll away
and steer themselves
safely through traffic
their owners
keep laughing
in restaurants
When I’m happy
criminals pray
and religious people all over the world
run out into the streets
shouting slogans
from the imaginary
evening news
When I’m happy
people stop arguing
and listen
to the small sounds
of every day life
that I’ve kept in my pocket
in case of emergency
When I’m happy
the weatherman
is absolutely certain
that it will snow
tomorrow
in art galleries
all round the world
When I’m happy
birds fly backwards
exploded buildings
reassemble themselves
dry leaves become green
soldiers forget how to fight
light streams from every window
TVs and computers freeze
someone winds back the clouds
the Earth slows down
faces tremble
I take a big breath
and try
to remember