Sunday, January 19, 2014

Saying boo to a goose.

Because you speak so little, make even less and I never see you
I take a photo of a flower arrangement you make to celebrate my being where I belong.
It was constructed one bloom at a time,  during a day long circuit between indoors and out.
Greenfly occupy the buds.
I had prepackaged it sentimentally, but now I see
reflected on a the glossy pitch pool of a dormant tv screen
two heads, myself and the animal watcher at my shoulder.

If I should lift this shade's hand away and slip away from you
leave as you slip away from me
Who are you, I love you, who are you, I love you
I love you so much

If I should shift away from so much love
which binds the pupa to the stick good and strong
Life rattles and shakes. Nothing.
Again rattle and shake. Nothing.

Who am I then, unaccustomed as I am
Now to take the stage and sing a song long in the throat.
To emerge with a 'fro in a flowing gown of green paisley silk and hold the mike in coral talons and belt it out.

I love you, who are you, I love you, who are you.

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