Wilder Method

Can I say something? I think it's 
time to let myself out: outdoor cat
with bird privileges, you know what I
mean.

Getting across the street (it will 
be a car that will end my life)
but death is in every step. Lines mean:
nothing but impulse coursing through.

Choices are a joke made up by 
bored academics who have forgotten
bare hands, teeth, eyes.

Dreams are real: tautologies are
in the handwriting of wishes;
could that I were clever
and made of wilder stuff.