O for the impassioned gaze
Of your discourse without
The ‘me, mine, I, this, they’O for your cheekbones
In silence, your body
Alive sans bouncing
Not electrified by desire
The family, the protest
Not by an invidious jealousy
Of all who communicate
Clearly and with purpose
O for your unripe dreams
Of style, your awareness
Of beauty, that nasty verbal lust
For what is on screen, what is hot
To prepare this all to nothing
Thighs tied together in self-respect
And your new explicated life
Which will give me five minutes
More to teach you chess and lose
Really dig this one
ReplyDeleteIt's great! Like the ambiguity (as I see it) and veiling in the last lines.
ReplyDelete"Alive sans bouncing" - but it's the bouncing that gets us every time. :)
ReplyDeleteGreat work.
ReplyDelete