~
Memphis
and the King,
plagued up
to his neck
in denial,

turning remote
controls
into staffs,
staffs into snakes,
jackals,
and hounds,

shaking the sistrum,
singing gospels
full of mystery
to a god,
a girl,
and state of mind
he will never solve,

asking skies
of transulent
orange,
from the far corners
of his world,
for pharmacopia,

then granting
Moses
his freedom
in exchange
for a box
of hot glazed
doughnuts,

and always
his little
wild petunia,
painted face
and percolating
body,
skin smooth
as the eastern Delta,

her weighted down heart,
his tyranny,

his self-destructive tongue,
her asp
~

sometimes
i want to implode
and swallow the things i said
turn back time
crawl into the womb
and never come out again

Softness of flowers
Make them humble

You always pointed out what I was not, instead of what I was.

Over-exaggerating what was bad, but never breathing a word of the good.

Focusing on all that I lack, with a mouth full of "Should's."

You never loved me, you loved the thought of what you could make me.

I am not clay for molding your vision of a masterpiece to make
me easier to look at, and lay claim to, boasting about saying,
"Look at what we've made."

I was already the Mona Lisa but all that could come out of your mouth was,

"Why oh why doesn't she smile?"