I Met the Man
I met the man
Who has become
The man, my father
Fought so hard
To not become
To always be
That lyrical, selfless soul
Only out there
To rid the world
Of joyless, empty measures
Filled with pauses, rests and
Unintended notes
Rather
His motivation comes
In rushes, bursts and
Pure brazen moments
Ready to share
His love
To the sick and the slick
The blase pack of
Tepid luminaries
Each marshal of
Their own parade
And he conducts
Them
Honors their passion
For something
Other than
The driftless pith
Of the soured day's
Intentions
With his merriment
And simple brand
Of anguish-soothing
Feign-removing
Love.
(8/3/04)
Copyright © Suburban Lovechild | Year Posted 2015
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