Les Cerisiers
30 Mars 2024
Tidal basin
Objects of beauty attract pretty girls
Art museums, cathedrals, flowered blooms
they make a sense of self-disgust within me whirl
taking pictures of their pink flesh and empty wombs.
all the others revolt me in their fat
they do not deserve to be looked at
Non-people, shirking the ideal
perhaps they see me the same way- as a rat.
faded pink, gracefully sweet
I don’t want them to take off their clothes.
Leaves will fall, as rots meat
if only the human body could grow, cyclical, as a rose.
I would taste the blossom-
The remontant bitterness-
as through trash, a possum
I wonder if I am devoid of worthiness.
their eyes stay on the trees
I crave their hungry glances
I think of them on their knees-
as the branche dances.
the next week, the leaves will fall
And they’ll be gone- all.
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Weather’s war
December 18th, 2023
Hunting island, SC
rain by the seaside
Strips bare my insides,
My mind is want
Of nature’s bishopric, and I a sycophant
Will I stay when the tides fades away?
Transience in permanence, move what may-
My soul climbs moss to the soupy tree top
Where guilt fades, condensates, and plop-
Water cycle woes-
The billow’s cerulean contours echo my foes
Long hair, enchanting voice, and entracing glow-
I stand in the water, and seem to be torn by the flow-
But I jam cotton in my ears,
The son in its cold passion, dear
To the men so deaf to song,
A brightly blinded heart beset by frothy wrong-
Eyes to the sky beg apotheosis
Heart to the earth’s heart crave neurosis,
The ocean, she culminates her fury
Yet dissolves suddenly, no worries to bury
In the rain on the seashore
I wonder what I want more
The strident sun or swallowing sea
Or weather so rightly at war?