quietly -

let us walk in the open one last time
for there are many enemies about
disapproving of our love
pushing us back to the closet
their sensible laughter a steamroller

my blood boils at the thought
the jock a machos lobbying for Rocky 59
as if I'm any less a man for having my literary fetishes

let us then sink into the ground and cruise with the worms
inches below the grass
now dead with winter blossoming heartache

     the uncreative -
stare until you see them move
they are the abominable snowmen!

but only months away Spring will trumpet
we can resurface in a brand-new reality
and when the normies fly in to pluck us from the ground
let them see how Poetry has grown teeth and claws
and if a good match for naive beaks

© 1985
Revised © 2018

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07/26/2018

Author's Note: A little paranoid poet detoxification.

Posted on 07/27/2018
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti