she writes, someone nameless, but an upright woman,
no false poet she
+=+=+=+=+=
I don't always understand my own poetry,
how could I decipher yours if ever?:
"Yours poetry seeks
to grasp, hide and peek,
strong/weak/out-front/meek.
It charms like a snake
a wake of ideas,
with innuendo, yet it's sublime,
a bell that chimes,
a walk in hell,
a credo a charm,
two-arms to keep one warm"
----
this will be kept
with my important papers,
in envelope marked
tombstone epitaph
the plain meanings
unsubtle, for spoken in one language,
but the inter~facing ganglia are twisted,
contused by a swelling,
of the inner!contras
of a swirling clash of impossibilities
how can a simple piety poet,
be so faceted, that leaves himself,
so twisted, torn, stillborn, into silence,
trying to resolve these
opposite dictions!
aye,
perhaps,
thst is why he writes,
so often and so rarely,
a thousand attempts to fathom
himself,
only adding more layers to unravel
in his bathtub of gin of
many explanations
then,
lets us travel,
under the arch to meet,
shall we say,
New Year's Day?
the flights will be cheap,
no one presses their divine intuition
and risks flying on the first of the year,
possibly using up,
all of their seven lives,
on one roll of the dice
yes, this, likes he, likes he,
we will need 24 hours to untangle
this two to tango infraction
of why, two should never to meet,
one could be ugly, or foul smelling,
a misrepented
sinner man,
or just another misrepresentative,
a plain vanilla pickle of a unit of human timed
hasty wasted
or
odds are even,
thst he will to the wrong town be going,
many a city,
after all, are notched
for their are magnificent arches everywhere,
but if beneath it,
you spot,
him soapbox spaking,
making ditties while standing
on just one leg, while to sky reaching,
if that should pleasure you,
you will know instinctually
what needs doing!
to unravel him,
will require
twenty fingers,
twenty toes,
a scalpel, many bandaids,
four lips, two noses,
even suturing where
the connection
however improbable,
requires
a deeper connection,
and probably
some unwinding
cosmetic
and cosmic
surgery
but
check first,
he's got a round trip ticket,
in his front left-sided pocket
in. cade he needs
right-away-returning,
though you might just want his
two arms, for sentimental reasons,
for other purposes
to stop him from writing further
