Jumping off Roofs

Bet your feet burned

when you landed.

That’s for sure.

Only child playing with your only self.

First the chicken shed

in the corrugated Laredo heat.

Then the roof of the big

house when mama and the aunts

were all asleep.

And years later,

off a plane on some fool dare

you couldn’t back out of.

So the story goes.

How your heart opened like silk.

The crooked spin of horizon.

That awful slant of sky.

And finally, the ripcord

and the yank

of life to bring you

back to earth.

Broke an ankle. Bone

split into a thousand colors.

Swell story to tell and tell again

at a San Antonio ice house.

But what I want to know is this.

In that dizzy moment

did your peepee dangle

like a ripcord,

or is it true all men

have hard-ons

when they fall to earth?

And if so,

what is the good

of being close to heaven

if our souls have business with the angels

but our peepees

so much to do with earth.