Fourth Wall

That apron, stage, is where I’m tied –

beyond my mother, now grown up –

but as a puppet, strings attached,

head lifted, limbs in jerky act;

but my appeal to the fourth wall,

the audience, participants.

My scooter took me, staircase base,

my make-up, face, bewilderment,

when muscle hunk played his part, cast

wide, embraced, scooped, lifted heights;

like Jacob’s ladder, angel climb,

that cherub, putti in my hands.

That play repeated without prompt –

save visibility alone –

in different scenes, in many acts.

It is no shame, that fourth wall claim,

to raise the curtain, reveal all,

be seen to be, a complement.