poetry, trails of thought

The man who saw too much

The man who saw too much 

in the woman who saw too little

made a sorry mad pair

who would always resent – so

bad – each other, then and there;

and when and why and 

how and what, 

and tied indiscriminate

to pasts serious and crude

of injustice 

real and

rude extreme.

And the red 

and the yellow 

of those creatures political

who had machine-driven,

mechanically I say,

mechanically all told, it’s clear;

and sold and bought the future

of this man I am, and 

always have been, and

always have seen, and

always have dreamed to be.

And his past 

and his present;

and his being 

and his grand.

Oh, simply to be that man 

they wanted

for all their geosocial purposes –

purposes high and mighty;

purposes equally political.

But on one terrible condition, hear me;

one awful requirement, see me.

Fuck your little woman

cold –

marry another far more bold.


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