A Boy Divided

Ï am an atlantïs
flung from a pïllow planet to thïs alloy tïde

the crashïng of every ïron wave agaïnst my glass shores
sends quïverïng cracks across my scape
and all thïs metal mïght one day trump me
capsïze me
toss me about ïn dark open sea and bash me thrash me tïll ï fall
and float lïke boulders wïth a target so clear

even down here ïn my jagged state where ï quake
smothered by oceans of excess,
ï am not broken.
no man ïs an ïsland
me, Ï am a contïnent.
and ï straïn my lïmbs beyond theïr lïmïts
stretch my skïn and charge my achïng, achïng bones
that ï mïght one day extend so flat so far
to brïng edge to edge and brïnk to brïnk
and lïft
and collect these waters of overkïll
and contaïn them wïthïn me
and control consume mechanïcally compress

ï wïll bloat, burstïng at my make-shïft seams
untïl abundance crumbles to a collectïon of dïsplaced letters ïn a dïsplaced space
where too much becomes just enough, and enough becomes an ïdentïty
so ïmmensely prïstïnely small that ï mïght slïp ït ïnto my pocket

that thïs man, thïs glass ïsland
mïght fïnd the strength to sport the weïght of the world on hïs sleeve
lïke ït weïghed nothïng at all
that men would be all that they could
that there mïght not be a need for ïslands any more

-Qïd