If you are in freefall, please remove your hat.
Do not panic; you will not be caught in a net, but you will not not be caught.
You will have only mornings now, sitting in armchairs, that are sitting in armchairs.
Your mouth will fix.
You will be able to go again: water closet and all of your nice doings.
But you will smell like burnt rice.
You will receive heart transplants from two baby killer whales.
Your two hearts will talk to each other, making sounds like boogaloo.
You will be issued a broken telephone booth instead of a gown.
You will mistake gas station signs for the moon.
Experts will measure you in quantum flirts.
Moths will band together to rebuild some of your light.
You will be given stories about lightening to keep secret.
You will be glued down.
You will be glued up.
You will be memorialized by artists.
They will all draw you in one dimension, stick-figured.
Slowly, someone will come to you.
Someone will touch the back of your head; someone will say oh, you are still asleep.
RE Katz is an MFA candidate in Fiction at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Their work has appeared in Knee-Jerk, Escape into Life, and Prick of the Spindle. They are currently working on their first novel. Their interests include the expanded genre, marginalia, radical pedagogy, polymathic jellyfish, and the book as art object.