i am not the swan that graces azure ponds
i am not a barbie doll wrapped in polyethylene
then why must you look at me?
you could caress the nebulae that blink hopefully in the night sky
you could hold in your hand the green groves that span for thousands of years
i am neither and for that you should turn your gaze
please lift me off the pedestal
and throw me in the sewer where i can bathe in my own flesh
go find your muse amongst the forget-me-nots and roses
and forget me where you don't belong

You've once recounted in memory
with that young boy vigor
of a hobby collection of that sort.

I find it fascinating how you could
maintain our feigned interest in naivety.
You kept us so long in silence.

You've kept all these things in
jars and cabinets packed in
tight spaces.

And as little and as inconsequential
that butterfly memory that you kept
in a bright jar up in your attic;

let that ripple strengthen into a wave
but i will never be what you willed
and kept for so long. A butterfly

clipped and dipped in formalin
for your tiny framed collection,
that pride-start, if you even had one.

-19FEB15

Farthest World
You haven't reached this world yet, of mine
You, the distant viewer.
My words are no arrow
And aimed at none.
If you feel provoked,
Wait a moment, meditate . . .
I am no more
But you are still there!

With every new hope
There is new agony

I fall hopelessly and endlessly
For the same blue eyes
The same strong hands
The laughs and the smiles and the
Lies and the emptiness just seem to fall
Into place

When will I learn to grasp this rhythm?

Flowers fade
And my world shakes
No attention is paid
To these high stakes