What I Want
August, 2017
If you ask me what I want it’s pain-free peace,
with a green-sea view, and also ice-cream.
I don’t care to read or sleep or dream.
I want to be, like a rock, full of particles
that hold their form in mysterious quantum ways,
while inside they move and bounce in comic skits.
Almost I can see that, like a neon sign flashing
D-A-N-C-E.
Once I owned a dress, it was red and white
polka dots with flounces, second hand of course.
But mine, you know?
I wore it to the dance and no-one asked
why polka dots, so out this year. My head so high.
Did you know polka dots can dance?
I wore gold sandals, wedgies, how we called them,
platforms now. Also out, I suppose, and why
choose gold to go with polka dots? Don’t know.
In seventh grade we learned domestic arts. I
sewed a blouse of green mid-summer leaves.
Never wore it, except for hiding in the grass.
Disguised I also hid in trees and valleys. Disguised
I walked on molded particles of wind and water;
the same, me and them. I like rocks, hard but frisky
lava particles compressed, or upset cliffs. Water
sooths them beside the sea on sand-beds. They fake
resting. Inside they’re all a-dance like candle flame.
Also I like ice-cream with chocolate cake.
2010 - 2019
Table of Contents