But if you were, that darn bubble
would always show up above your head,
the kind with the empty circles that shows
the rest of the world what you’re thinking
and not saying. Imagine how those bubbles
would float above you in the meeting
when the manager is lying, or in the kitchen
when no one says thank you for the dinner
you spent an hour making, or in line
at the grocery store where the woman
cuts in front of you.
Perhaps you could, from time to time,
look up and read what the bubble says
when even you, yourself, are unsure
what you are thinking. There would be,
perhaps, an untranslatable squiggle,
or a series of exclamation points, asterisks,
semi colons and question marks,
and you’d have to wait for the next frame
in which, miraculously, the bubble over your head
corresponds with the words you are saying.
Still, you’d know that somewhere inside
that three by three inch square, inside
that two dimensional, black and white image
there’s more to be said, something
no one else can read, not even yourself—
yes, you, too are waiting to step
through the vertical black line
into the next frame to be drawn
when all will be revealed.
*title based on a title by Jack Ridl