Nervous breakdown man

father walks in the sky the sun
is dispersing the continent of clouds
on which he walks and he's so brittle now
that he can't carry you
to the fragile heights he's living

father sits on a stained bed it's his magic carpet
in his mind it's a rotten place to sleep for the rest of us
a weightless place for him to live I think
he found the wrong heaven
but the female angels are wearing their uniforms
the food is cold and clean in its basket of air
he sees it suspended in transparent stomachs
the male angels are eating their fill they are not
vegetarians

his mouth is a trap he can't open for fear
of letting god out to avenge
the clumsy loves of all his human cousins
living in the shadow of the hospital
in two thousand winters one day his shattered pants
cloaked and scattered the mystery
from which I leaped, impotent