Terri Lee McCord

WHEN YOU START

to stand outside yourself
is it the metatarsals
you think of,
the pain in the arch,

a transparent table
the ‘L’ angle
of the room accented with
the corner chair,
the gorgeous aqua
dotted pillow also angled,

the see-through table
ready for a procedure,
a cat silhouetted against
a window, possibly
levitating,

no table at all,
the prediction of
the disappearance
of everything in the light,
or do you tear up
these words, literally,
throw up your hands?