I’ll let you in on a secret.
If you jump high enough,
you can land on a rainbow.
If you time your leap to the precise millisecond,
you will have green under your feet.
You may also verify if there’s indeed a pot of gold somewhere.
If you are fast but not fast enough,
you might find yourself dangling from the arch
and then sliding onto a cloud.
If you cling to the red,
flex your arms,
and somehow get a toehold,
you will make it.
You will stand tall and cast your shadow on the moon.
But hang on, it won’t be over at that.
Once you get yourself up there,
prepare to look down
and find all the lives you could have led
but could not find when you walked through the tunnel every day on earth.
The life that would have taken you piggyback through the mountains
or around the shoulder of the river.
The life where you could leap from the edge of the waterfall.
Or the life that would have left you in the middle of a basket of colours.
Or the one in which you could shed your hooves and horns
and say goodbye to the pack.
Or the one in which you could have a debate with yourself
and share the dais with anyone who cared to join in.
Let’s say, you could then hop off the rainbow back to your life on earth.
Any of those parallel lives stacked outside the tunnel.
Which one would you pick?
Don’t tell me. I don’t need to know.
And now, I’ll let you in on the bigger secret. The last one.
There is no rainbow.
And those alternate lives?
Oh yes, those are fucking real.
The Dirty Thirty, Poem 7