Where was I
when repo men invaded,
boxed me up within his cool heart
fragrant in its distaste of warmer climates?
climates governed by love.
(Daydreaming of knights, that's where.)
Now I have only so much patience remaining
for this slapstick brain-
a nasty reminder, the heckler of my heart,
what spews sensibility
when I simply yearn to err.
And I scarcely have time to mourn
his devil's smile
leaving southward in moving vans
transporting my pieces
(all the valid ones)
as I sit numbed,
next to climbing ivy poisoned by my disbelief,