Balloon Poem by David Michael Jackson

balloon poem

I’m pushed into the side of a giant balloon.
I can see into the balloon.
There is a screen and some hands,
typing.
Behind me is reality,
but the balloon moves fast.
If I turn, the balloon turns.
I can run into
the other room.
It’s there,
inside the balloon.
I can see these hands typing.
They are my hands
pushing into the balloon.
There are others.
They are pressed into the side.
I can see the impression
of their faces, speaking.
If I hold my ear to the side of the balloon,
I can hear them.
They say to get real.

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