this is my cactus poem
when you imagine an image of the desert, do you think of dust and dirt, a tumbleweed in the wild west?
a cowboy with spurs on his boots riding horseback beside a covered wagon?
a filthy, grungy, bearded fellow who spits into jars on the floors of saloons and whistles at passing women?
i think i can understand how people view arizona the way they portray it in movies
sometimes i forget that we're more civilized than that when everyone i've met here has been so morally obstruct in their ways
the dust and decay that the outside world views in elaborate movie scenes has become the insides of the people who reside here
you may live in a pueblo-style luxury condo but your soul resonates with dirt and filth and each time you exhale when you speak, i see the dust you cough up from your lungs
sometimes i like to think i'm a cactus
my skeleton is strong and my exterior is sharp but i know to hold onto the niceties because sometimes the rain only comes once a year
rain that brings turquoise and orange blossoms but you only see my thorns
and when you get too close, i'll know just how to push you away
***** you just right so you know that no matter how close you get, you'll never stand the fight
this is my cactus poem
and i'll be just fine