To My Newborn Daughter, Years From Now
Standing high upon the knot
In my ladder years,
I claimed to be the king.
Now, the crown horrifies me.
Still some gentle cruise is within me.
Like Saturn turned upside-down.
Would we notice the madness in the crème?
If there’s anyone that’s going to point the way for you it’s me.
Not out of self-aggrandizement, out of pure love,
And full, final redemption for all my short-comings.
How do I stop the avalanche?
Why do I feel I need to stop the avalanche?
Is it really an avalanche?
Or do I like playing with visions,
Responding to my own antics with mock melodrama?
Let the bizarre stay bizarre.
I’ll be in the corner selling coconuts.
Copyright © Matt Caliri | Year Posted 2014
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