I know what you want,
and as Zimmerman said a lifetime ago –
when we still owned our souls,
when the future was ours –
it ain’t me, babe…
you lipservice the virtues
and downplay the shell but come on!
I’ve seen where you live,
I’ve seen what you drive –
and this rough rock, untumbled,
doesn’t fit into that daydream.
you need the flawless stone
of urban perfection
the polished nails,
the saloned hair subtly highlighted every month,
the gymnastic thighs of an eighteen-year-old,
the mind of a Venetian courtesan
and the heart of all-forgiving mother.
pass me by quickly in my faded jeans –
nails clipped for the strings,
hair untouched by any hands but mine,
strong thighs supporting an innocent mind
and the heart of a lover –
as I riffle the deck and out drops
the King of Hearts,
who’s then blown away by a swift vagrant breeze.
© 2001, renewed 2012 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
Words to a would-be lover on the mismatch between us and our expectations.