Not every thought needs
to be expressed. Certainly
not shouted, as though lovers
divided by a widening chasm of
flame instead of a cooling dish of
patatas bravas that you found too spicy.
-
-
I vowed to write this poem before
allowing myself a nap in the middleseat squozen between my wife and
an inattentive father seated justbehind his daughter who may as well
have been left at Disneyworld whereprincesses stand guard behind topiaries
and garbage cans and other princessesto emerge in case of indifference
to curtsy and wave and winkat this little girl peeking between
the seats to make damn sure sheis seen and known and loved which
is usually my job butI had a poem to write, and a nap to take.
-
before your son leaves for college
take him for a walk along the beach.Stay by his side without holding his
hand. As you avoid drift woodsand tides and fly-clouded corpses, drift
away and let his pace outpace yours.Step in his footprints. Notice that his
feet have outgrown yours. Notice thatyour stride can match his stride.
Notice that it’s not worth the effort. -
Certainly, O Dark-Souled Dane, a hintish
tickle of rank and foetid currentsweeping beneath your kingdom’s feet, but have
you, Unsettled Prince, sensed what stirsacross the ocean? A waft of acrid faith
twined with sourful pride beneath a hazeof festerous free, towering rot. Not some
thing, but many. Many things. -
Look askance, all you
want, at a people who
draped their cats as
queens, in gold and lapis
and jasper and jade,or shaved their eyebrows
in lamenting grief when
their whiskered royals
sauntered through Duat to
bask beneath Ra’s passing,but have you, a lap
among a sea of laps, ever
been so richly blessed by
an ambivalent god brushing
against your shins?