I do not understand
Why he sabotaged me so consummately,
And made me look like  
Such a pathetic old patsy,

Could he not discern the misery
He was shoring up by degrees,
Over the course of the years
For the self he would ultimately be?

It was perforce a former version of me,
Who led me to this place
Of near-incessant mourning,
A narcissistic anomaly,

Who never wanted the precious gifts
Of peace and domesticity,
The little ones that might have been,
He spirited them all away from me.

Tinkling rhythms engulfed us
As we sat in a cuban bistro,
Surrounded by the populace
And having nary a place to go.

We spoke of many things
That curried the other's favor,
Then I noticed her silver rings
And decided I'd wait no later.

This stranger that sat before me,
Blue curls atop her pretty head,
Observed my hand steadily
As it dropped off the table's end.

I reached into my bag and withdrew a rock,
It's complexion of gold and plaque shining silver.
Her reaction was that of pleasant shock
As I wished her congrats on turning a year older.

Now, a year and some days later,
We've both reached a special place.
Day to day I get to face her
And feel my lover's warm embrace.

*******, Evangeline
I hated you in the seventh grade
When you were pushed on me at school
And broke my rib,
As I badmouthed you on the monkeyswings.

But quickly I learned
Not from mom or sister
That to be a man is different than
Hollywood and Disneyland
Nothing Loves, Actually; Forever calls—

Very quickly

It seems

That I go from adorable to expendable

Serendipitously,
With a bit of mandated mail
And affairs with Eros’ bureaus of State

Back then I played with chitinous bugs
Baiting them fluffy placentas
of budding trees
And stalked them back to their cave
Before I knew my felonies

But I was a baby,
A child—I never could have known what it means.

But of course I do,
I’ve seen
the running of the bulls
The utterance of men
They are angry and gouge *******
with cold vicegrips around their ******
And are kicked
Mercilessly
Spurned to wrathful affectation
To be murdered in the evening
With rapturous spectation

“But they are bulls!”

Of course they are
"These feelings are only natural!"

No man can equate
With the pleasurable temptations of the state

Not bird or bug or steer or doe

The only Hierarchy permissible
Is of the animals
And of that we hate

I don’t see you woeing
About that steak on your plate.
Or the Glue in the soles of your shoes.

Stroll a bit
Sniff the trees
Whiff the *******
When it’s in the feed

He runs in circles shouting, chanting
“Oye, Oye, Aye Piche Cabrone!”
As the solo mothers cut his lengua
for the starving Ninos
In an apartment complex
off Oxenhoof Lane

Where

Papi got iced
By I.C.E or the like
And the kiddies will never know what it means.

You’ll never know what it means
To be a bull
Muster your might for this—demand with laughter you die
I am an ant in the ever-washed hive
Of sterile kin who have no lives
They give for their queen or infectious despot with wings

Despite all the kindness they've given me,
I am not ready to be meat for the feet.

In every blade of grass I've faith
That no bird or sin will ****** me from my place
And into the sky or the unsatiated mouth of the various
Disunified highs

For now I share the toil and vitriolic
Callous
Jowls of those who hate themselves
More than me
And try to smile and bring food for the queen

But deep inside
I am an ant
And that is all you will ever see.

A handsome gift
Not on the wedding list
Elegantly packaged
Glass figurine
Bride & groom
Entwined in first dance
Wrapped up in each other
On the box's base
Clear but concealed
Warning:
Repeated exposure to heat & cold
Can expose invisible cracks