what was i
good for?
was i snapped
in two
folded
like a paper
mache
cardinal-
you set me
on fire.
clearly, only
through the view of
a drop of water
what we are
taught
is not all that
there is
to be learned.
my lovely,
sweet enjoyable
ice cream cone.
dripping on
my hands-
sticky;
you forged my signature
so many times
on your
heart.
and now,
i am struggling
with the lack of
employment
in these
regions of
puerto
rico-
i love
these
clues.
and when
you're in the mood
to here a rhyme
go read a
book
of
american poetry.
and yet-
you believe yourself
to be so
sovereign
over
your
own
bad
wordsworth
poem:
and yet, like
a foraging young
lover,
he gave out pieces of
sunshine
on sticks-
but it was
usually
raining.
and i'd lost
my umbrella
a long
time
ago.