Wanting out no matter what, the cow jumped.
Standing on watch along the fence line,
suddenly in the path of her leap, I fell
to the ground to dodge her havoc of hooves.
Landing clear, she pulled the four live wires
loose from the posts, down onto me,
their pulse taking over mine.
She entangled me in her need to get free.
My parents watched, unmoving, amused,
uncertain of what to do.
With each shock, my limbs blinked
into disconnection. To get free fast,
these hands had to lift, the legs had to kick
the wires. They snapped back into place
like puppet strings. Eyes going black
in the aftershocks
had to be shut. Then this body
had to turn off and pull.
After the first few attempts
I thought they would run to the switch,
cut my voltage, grab my shoulders, pull.
I’m not touching you. Get yourself out.