I Would Like My Hat Back Now

That hill that does not
Seem to move? It seethes.
Cut or burn the trees,
And the grass will push
Back up, blade by blade.

Box it in. Move in.
Close the blinds and live
In the box—no plants,
No pets, and no kids.
That blank wall? It seethes.

Lie face down and breathe
A few deep breaths. Hold.
Feel your scared pulse race.
Close your eyes and wait.
That red dark? It seethes.

While you’re down there, think
Of a still scene. Toss
Your hat in none’s ring.
Wait. Wait. You can’t wait.
The scene fades. You seethe.