Like a Magnifying Glass

So you gonna stay hidden?
OK, okay, I'll.
I'll.

I will talk anyway,
maybe not so out loud though,
or often,
or honestly.

I want your big bang -
so I can run with it.
So I can make little bangs,
and feed the fish with it.

Are you listening
to my thoughts?
Are you seeing these?

Let's go:
I can't rope a steer,
I can't lasso the moon, George.
I can't shoot the cherry off The Bad's cigarillo.
I can't fly.
I can't boss, or chair,
or le petite prince,
or emcee,
or captain the high school football team,
or rappel like Papa Noel down your chimney

Here's what some:
I can dive off
whatever stable surface
I find has wedged itself between
my feet and the abyss

I can huddle myself into a ball,
like an armadillo,
and play dead

I can stealth, like a cat,
through the junk and moonstuff

Give me a little light,
and I can illuminate this canyon,
and that one

I can look out these eyes,
after these many years,
and see the The Union,
but shimmerings;
not enough to draw him out