My fears arrived like sparrows falling from the sky, asking what’s your name, little star. A sock puppet for all your worries. I made a list of things I would never get a chance to say. Get that iguana away from me. I left my jewelry at the palace. Shut up I’m thinking I said to no one in particular, it was just the way my day began. Maybe I was meant to be a catalog. Pictures of everything I thought I wanted. A mind for remembering and forgetting. A way of leaving the house like the day was built for me. The sweaty pink of the magnolia, the too sharp yellow of the daffodil. Their vibe was hard to shake. I tried to draw a violin but the neck looked funny. A picture of the strings not the same as music. I was lonely like a parrot in a cage. I watched an owl hunt mice on television and rooted for the owl. Who did I think I was, opening and closing the same door like something different might emerge. I tried to give it a new name, the song for my situation. I was a carnival ticket-taker in a lightning storm. I couldn’t leave my station.