I stood at your doorway with my blessings
And my armor I laid down.
You took me inside and gave me bread
then in a mood made by darkness you said:
I did not work
“Your kind will always be a mystery to me
To be honest. I don’t like a mystery
Even though that’s what I love about you”..
I ate in silence
The screech of the mouse in the corner made
Me feel as if it were laughing at my befuddlement
I wanted to box this one up and send him to the
Could Santa Claus make him into a Ken Doll?
I could move its legs and arms and put it around my belly and say:
Feel this Ken? This is who I am.
A big Fat Mystery!!!
And guess what?
He would not say anything cause I would
Put him in an easy chair and make him
Prune-and-walnut-filled poussin with roasted baby vegetables
He would retain that perennial smirk
And I would go to my room
And there I would take up my sword and strike!
I would write of the mystery of my cells and have a good long look
at the molecules that seem to float around my love notes
my fibrous tendons would reach out to the
Unlimited Vastness… the best ‘hook up’ there is!
But I am here eating the gruel of mundanely
And the taste is retched and leaves me cold
Why do I feel betrayed?
Why do I feel like my transparent nature is
My only true lover?
I could be his housecat I suppose,
He would like that.
And the threat that I could scratch his eyes out and fly above his head?
That would not bother him at all,
As long as he knew I would do that
Could do that.
Just stay in the house and lock the doors
Like a good kitty
A poem.. you get it?