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The speaker moves out of dulusion into a world of unstable balance, where trees, bricks, the sturop, and distant places all push him toward departure.

The page feels like a leaving poem, but not a clean one, since every step forward is met by screems trying to pull the speaker back. Its riding language matters because the motion never becomes a full gallop; it settles into a set, almost ceremonial. The tipped hat at the end makes disappearance look courteous and final at once.

A leaving poem that refuses a clean exit: it is 'hard to stand in the middle' while 'Walking out the door of dulusion,' with 'The screems' pulling you 'back.' A vertigo of unstable things - 'brand new trees,' a 'sky that is / not still anymore,' 'the balance / on the brick,' 'the immagination of distant places' - pushes toward departure, and the riding image never breaks into flight: 'the sturop sinks and settels / as not a gallop but a set.' The courteous, final close: 'even / if you don't have a hat, you have tipped / to be gone.'