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August, 2003

So tired
Sleep blankets me
My eyes wander
As the big black cat
Purrs
To ward off my
Nightmares
My unlovable fears
That my skin
Not fair enough
My blood not blue
Or green enough
My rampant
Appetites
Too large for
One foolish man
That the passion
A command is somehow
Unseemly
Unbecoming
Unflattering
Simply anti-
Everything a fair
Maiden stands for.
I suppose that way
Lies part of the
Issue
The problem
Too much passion
Drive, appetite
Anger, lust, love, life
To be contained
By mere conventionality
No proper
Place for me
No launch, no
Society
Regency is a line
Of furniture and
Style, not a
Way of life
So here I lie
Waiting for the
3:15 marvel
And I find out
It never left,
I only forgot where
My pen was all year.




© 2003 by the respective poets