U - By Proxy

I can
shake up your illusion
snatch your crayons
stove in your drumskin
and
bite half moons from your records
but
I cannot wake you.
My fifty crunches each morning cannot
wring the doughiness from your abdominals
My hours spent fingering the myxolidian cannot
improve your saxophone playing
From where I stand
Breeze licking my pate
I can describe the view for you
but
I cannot help you climb the mountain.