The Helicopter and the Tiger

The Helicopter and the Tiger

My mood drops down suddenly
like a helicopter in a squall. (Perhaps
the smooth pink pills I take for
back pain are affecting my mind.)
Then I get caught somewhere lower,
my legs stuck in the mud as I wait,
staring into the night, dark as evil,
for the tiger I know is out there to run
in, pounce, and begin chewing.
As his yellow teeth rake through my
thin scalp, I hope that the mud will
release me, let me loose back up into
the warm blue air above, or at least
that the tiger will be quick about
what he needs to do.