Leaving planet earth is the great escape.
And so it is for the people left behind, too.
To ride on the coat tails of the dead
To invent memories where there were none.
To believe in your own life, all the intersections,
All the collisions, the gas lighting.
Woven amongst the prickly wool
Swept beneath the beaten rug.
Those memories have their own escape.
They, too will leave on someone’s coat tails.