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the name you can't say
by Charlie Morgana juniper grows, the old man calls it a cedar;
so long he's been wrong in the naming of trees.
juniper is a woman's word, he thought, frilly;
now, cedar is hardskinned bark, rough and tough;
twists its roots like a teenager's heart-throb,
leaning toward the Sun, bending with the wind.
seen growing upward, ever-bending, a berry-basket
of seedlings to further the cause of bonsai trees.
and you call junipers, cedars. you chew the word
until finally you spit-out the name of juniper.
you call him lover, when he is really a luster;
a cedar is a juniper with all the needle-leaves
still intact and ever-yearning to be a juniper.
at length, the juniper shakes and is deflowered. 02/05/2009 Posted on 02/05/2009
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
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