It is me who is now able to
wake from a sweet dream – a man able to
grow corn in a field of lore…!
Lest you, or some others mistake corn for
an expectation of tomatoes, I will write
you a myth about some other vegetable.
I can do that – the simple things are easy.
But don’t ask me to sweep the floor of
your dark ants, some things I will not do.
So…there was an explanation waiting in
the wings like an excuse wanting to come
home after an extended vacation.
But the curtain could not be drawn away –
It wanted to hold a shroud over the past
covering its secrets like an emergency.
So…the conversation continued on and on
ad infinitum while dark ants struggled to
You wish you were a funereal flower wet
with honey for a baby – that a slither
snake would explain a final mystery.
How is it that an excuse never bandages
a sad reality and its telling to someone
somewhere, doesn’t erase a memory?
From the door into the kitchen you watch life
being prepared by dark ants with stolen sugar,
and wonder if the candy will ever be ready?