06 November 2014


Is it preferable to be decorous
And bow gracefully
To the poet who holds all the cards?
The one I love
And pine for?

He recognized instantly I was
Still am, always will be

Was what?

Deep in love?
Deep in the arts?
Deep in the throat?

Or is it preferable to get angry?
Disappear again?
Which does he deserve?

He said to guard against
Sounding obtrusive

A man of few words 
He managed to say 


To me
And I was hurt but I apologised 
To the poet who holds all the cards

He keeps himself in check
He won’t let a single card slip by
And he shows them all to me 
Just so I know what I am missing

Look, this is the king of hearts he says
What a specimen!
Look, here’s the queen of hearts, a sad lady
How come such sadness? he asks

He’s a pretender, he knows how come

Each card signifies a loss
Each one reminds me of my job:
Entertain him, caress his vanity
Well, why stop at a caress?
How about a good old b and j?
His vanity deserves it
After all he practices his hobby
With superlative artistry 
He is the poet of seduction

Forgive me
I sound obtrusive, I know
Hard to avoid obtrusiveness 
Hard to be graceful

Plus he meditates 
A pilgrim of mountaintops 
Which makes him even more desirable

I crave the gamut
I mean, what good is swimming
If you won’t dive? 

I address him:

Will you draw me into the raw
Uncloaked intimacy of your orbit?

I am such a lousy card player!