Letter to Cinderella (and her Texas Fairytales)
~for EJ Love~
now lookee here, girl,
slow down pardner,
blanket love-spells need to be addressed,
especially if a return requested back to
the great state of big ole Texas
as I am loved in Texas, I’m well aware
how hard it is to find love in wide open spaces,
more trucks and cows than people,
which is NYC in reverse,
both hard places in different ways
to make angelic fairies appear,
released intact from busted soap bubbles
so here’s my idée fixe,
to the reading, less,
to the writing, more,
command thyself to march towards
the seventeenths poem, and many more
to arrive at the promised
hallelujah
take the formless visions, potions,
drifting in you, figure them into words,
shaped with passion and cunning, twitching in
a creme of teasing, a dollop of wanting,
a whimsy, sense of humor, stir with another’s pinky finger,
bigger than the ineffable lone star of lonely,
an eye tear for flavor, a salty secreted ingredient,
that needs, requires another’s hand to wipe away
and a flashing neon sign:
Texas Red Amber, Chops, and
real good loving desired!
only good loving people,
steady on their feet,
need apply, poets favored,
but a certain kind of cowboy,
ok as well
what be my expertises in matters these,
why I am your chastened, mean no more,
sweet sister who see your spells flying by,
who writes to you with newly learned humility
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 3:45 PM UTC
Letter to Cinderella (and her Texas Fairytales)
~for EJ Love~
now lookee here, girl,
slow down pardner,
blanket love-spells need to be addressed,
especially if a return requested back to
the great state of big ole Texas
as I am loved in Texas, I’m well aware
how hard it is to find love in wide open spaces,
more trucks and cows than people,
which is NYC in reverse,
both hard places in different ways
to make angelic fairies appear,
released intact from busted soap bubbles
so here’s my idée fixe,
to the reading, less,
to the writing, more,
command thyself to march towards
the seventeenths poem, and many more
to arrive at the promised
hallelujah
take the formless visions, potions,
drifting in you, figure them into words,
shaped with passion and cunning, twitching in
a creme of teasing, a dollop of wanting,
a whimsy, sense of humor, stir with another’s pinky finger,
bigger than the ineffable lone star of lonely,
an eye tear for flavor, a salty secreted ingredient,
that needs, requires another’s hand to wipe away
and a flashing neon sign:
Texas Red Amber, Chops, and
real good loving desired!
only good loving people,
steady on their feet,
need apply, poets favored,
but a certain kind of cowboy,
ok as well
what be my expertises in matters these,
why I am your chastened, mean no more,
sweet sister who see your spells flying by,
who writes to you with newly learned humility