oh, my capital J
i wish to love you

wish to relish
with heavy breath
your bumbling
word clippings

as mr. ryles
would say

i'd clean after your
sweaty pen's scribbles

dripping monolithic
red yellow green blue
onto the
black pupil,
white globe
of my eye

but,
blink
your lines go by
i feel no different,
no freer, no lighter
no angrier

just sadder, that such
blather, such
depthless flat
colored words
are mistaken for

poetry

have you not heard,
the brown thrush's song,
while drifting off in your father's
arms?

she sings for you and for me
about the ruby colored dawn,
bursting upon the nest of the earth,
overflowing with joy, with life
for you and for me

i want to love you J
through your words,
i really do

but sentimental odes are not made
with shapeless rocks for words, nor
butter knives for tools

sharpen your wits
****** your words
i wait to love you
through your words