If it weren’t for those incessant lines
a sprinkle of sheer enjoyment would be upon us.
Alas, still closed it reads a book
the droplets from the spring I shook—
and blew away the obstacles.
The last damn bits of powder from the sleeve
Reprieve.
Retrieve those antioxidants
You swallowed with the thoughts
Of them. That measly intellectual:
Disease.
Who said my sublimation was
inferior sensation?
Is that the touch your fingertips
Achieve?
The miniscule apartments
(I know you were a part)
and crept from.
Bent upon the notion of
reprieve.
Don’t worry little Golden boy.
I’ll leave the door ajar and coy.
And close my eyes
While Up you size—
Effeminates and undesirable breeds.
But Please
Don’t forget to lock the door
Before you’re cocked
—to learn of more
triumphant ways to whack away the weeds.
A Library / 2013
A Library / 2013
