Curtsy
curtsy to the past
tip my hat past my eyes
as time flies, as virtue waves
goodbye- averted glance to such
a grandiose sigh
from father sky who can't help but feel
let down- his crown lies broken
pieces confused easy with fragile halo
'hell no! this is not the war we're fighting for!
this is something else-'
(worse)
sick sneeze
virus dispersed, touching all within
calling out loud 'come in- come in!'
spoken second language foreign
concept unable to actualize the prize lies inside--
it's okay to say, to pretend, tickle & play
but touch is a NO NO
goes too far, tempts at the tip of the tongue,
unsatisfied until
the body is done-
wrung tight & taut shivering hard
in the hot air; not really there.
it is a plot to care, to dare to
direct eye contact soul searching
inflicting fiery flecks of fire
desperate to depict desire
(failing miserably)---- can't help my naivette
my ignorance that makes me sway
brings such delayed reaction-
my defense is distraction- friendship is
a transaction built upon vessels pumping toward
& against each need
& hunger whether mutual or not.
wisdom is the victim sleeps alone on a cot
diseased & dripping with snot--- overlooked
far too long, she once was strong, now she's barely
holding on, singing songs that have no lyrics---
'it's the spirit,' they say, 'that's the one piece that can't waste away'
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