Given the choice of blowing-up the Empire
State Building or a department store, he said balloons
took his breath away, too.
Then he took the wind in his fist
and let it out like a butterfly,
to show what power was.
When no one understood
he let himself go
and they followed the simple flight of his mind
flower to flower. Then he raised his fist
into a hammer and slammed it to the table,
to show what weakness was.
He had them,
and could have lifted them with his voice
to where blood gets thin as air
and honest rage suffocates in the throat.
He told them instead about his fist,
the dull pain up his arm, turning warm.