Monday, December 27, 2004

To R.D.

When my poems saw you date
your poems, they clustered up

fretfully trying to remember
their history. “We’ve never felt

so abandoned before! No dates
to tack on to, no chronology

to mark our growing.” I crossly
shot their discontent down.

“Excitable mongrels! Can you
swear to the day you were born

to? You revel in your polygenous
delivery, changing shape size

color often as may please. Shall
we lose that freedom to grow?”

2 comments:

Ubermensch said...

love it love the style...wow!

ArturoDekko said...

nice going