NaPoWriMo #12: Collapse

We learn to collapse in a pile, to make funny
what people do on an ordinary day, to mimic

leaves that are raked up for children to fall in,
to show that people are interchangeable parts

that can fit together when comedy is needed.
Networks put us on, where we've become a symbol

of unpredictable friendship, of people who could be
enemies in other circumstances, who choose

instead to gather in a thick clump, skin and clothes
meeting like a bonfire that can't be extinguished,

too late for anger to rise up, to freeze us all.
We end when we remember we are separate,

that we should reenact love with our families,
not each other.  We draw together one last time.

It feels like our legs are one leg, our arms
pointing in the same direction, our chests rising

to supply identical oxygen to everyone's bodies,
our minds stuck on one channel, soon to go black.