Corn Flakesfor D.B.A.
in a few seconds
or in a few minutes
she said she'd be here
not at all enough time
to break down my house
and build a new one
not enough time
to be conceived
and to be born again
time enough only
to wash my face
to comb my hair
scrub my toilet bowl
pull off the racks and put away
towels, used, dirty
some just rags
I'd not want her eyes to fall on
nor would I want
to fill her eyes with
as for me, I clothe myself
in fresh poetry
fresh silk suits
like I was a silk worm
cocooned in these
until I am released
until it is time to be born
these silk suits to mask
what I wish not seen
what I wish no one to see
things I am ashamed of
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
4:14 p.m. 15.09.10
posted by Obie Quiet at 5:58 AM
2 Comments:
the places you'd put your poems. you really are going green, coupled with your growing brown.
the places where you'd put me,on a box, in your bowl then you'd serve me with bananas and nuts to the world.
Hi Obi,
At least you had poems to wear and I am sure they made you look so handsome that nothing else was noticed.
Althea Romeo-Mark
Post a Comment
<< Home