It’s not easy to get to the other side of the glass.
I can’t break it. I’m not strong enough.
I can’t even throw a ball, let alone a man, a party.
Only once have I witnessed someone throwing time.
It was right before the end. My mother, of course.
Another time, I heard someone throw his voice.
He had a brain tumor and would die before summer.
He made the fish in the aquarium speak to me.
Nicole? The fish said. Psst… Nicole? Hey Nicole!!!
We were in a room full of people drinking coffee.
I was fifteen and worried that I had lost my mind
so I said nothing. I didn’t say, Anyone else hear the fish talking?
Instead I snuck into the kitchen and stuck my thumb
into a strange pie. To get to the other side of the glass,
I would have to get out of my chair, walk down a long hallway,
pass the lab, go through the glass double doors,
swing a right, another right. Then maybe
I could stand on the back of whatever animal
sleeps soundlessly beneath my window,
and I could look inside to my now empty chair.