A background without stars, without kinescope,
Without trappings, like a parade with lots of confetti
Parachuting into an argument that blows up
Into what we really hate about each other.
With my good hand I trail off a solitary letter.
It’s nothing phonetically, not even a whole bicycle.
Just a monsoon of leaflets I asthmatically perfected
Over a cup of grapes.
I write, “Go far away and be beautiful.”
So something beautiful will be far away.
No comments:
Post a Comment