23 April 2018

A Cheery Poem about the Coming of Spring (If You Care About that Sort of Thing)

I have measured out every chunk of rain with meticulous sobriety
No one understood why it mattered whether the glass was half full but I
Am building a liquid staircase
And this is important;
That I am able to do so,
Immensely important,
That I can sing harmony,
Maintain a meter,
Talk to animals, etc.
And I know I could—
(They say if you can walk on water you can do the rest)
But I cannot walk on water,
And therefore I can do nothing.

Let every leaping and living thing come out in April,
Dragonflies, whooperwills, bridesmaids, flower-girls
Let them peek down at their bellies or under their bottoms
And yelp, because the fruits of the their labor are hatching at last
But not Belligerent Man,
Whose thoughts have been rotting since October,
Having neglected the apples in August,
Slouching, fat-lipped, bleary eyed, undersexed
Indolently watching the sun recede
And mourning the loss of his innocence,
Wipes his hand across his mouth, and laughs.

So this is my prayer to the dragonflies, whooperwills, bridesmaids, and flower-girls
That you might sever (by whatever operation necessary)
My upper lip from my bottom
So that I might utter the prayer
That I have just mentioned.

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