His Speech in Broad Daylight

The crest of a hill, a coat of arms,  a wave.

All electricity must cease

All batteries are void.

The box raised me seven inches

above all others present.

My words were arranged

like written instruction.

Many there were reminded of the

exploded diagrams in model kits.

I asked everyone to hold their own faces.

Some were confused by this.

Others slapped themselves.

I felt the glass pitcher inside me tip.

I steadied the stream until

the lightness ebbed.

My voice was just below

the threshold of a scream.

I was baying in broad daylight.

The moon turned away.

And then like so much burnt cork

I was darkened , hidden away from myself,

from audience.

The plan for me was reduction, sidebar.

The species stood up and yawned.

In the distance I could hear

generators start up again.

Clouds disengaged,

batteries smiled at the sun.

My fall was less than a foot.