Cartoons convinced a younger me
that turtles could completely leave their shells.
I’d find out a short time later, having read a few more books,
that all of that was bullshit and that turtles
were as locked inside as I am in this skull
that moves my fingers.
I also remember the idea of brains in jars
that could be hooked up to machines
so they could talk and those thought dead
were actually just some data left inside
a floating mind.
I find this far more comforting a thought than
abandoning a shelter built around you,
but when an anvil crushes my body
I will remain where I was standing when it happened.
I loved the programming around the shows the best
where all the characters would host the evening
line up in their backwards ways and leave
the fourth wall broken on the floor.
I’d open up a million doors for just one chance
at finding a new world behind them because,
no matter where it lead, that moment
of miraculous discovery would be enough
to fix the part of us that searches for
what we can never have.