Erick Piller: “A Normal Feeling Comes”

Lately I have always felt so happy about my feelings.

My mental life resembles an impressive tower

and below it a thicket and a bulging knoll. Every

tragedy of late seems only half wrought. I tell myself,

Dear Diary, I have many important feelings

and would like to express them. Then a gnome

appears on the grassy knoll and waves to me.

The wind literally kisses my hair. I say, Yes, gnome?

Which artifacts, it asks, from your mental life

would you like placed in the September

11th Memorial Museum? Before I can answer,

the wind rushes through the thicket. Papers

loosened from the branches blow over

my vast domain. The sun has begun to go down.

The princess upon her mattresses cannot sleep

because the sleeping pill lodged several mattresses

below disturbs her delicate back.