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I’m grateful despite

I’m grateful despite the all
grasping con-game where
indifferent house guards always win
She’s a con artist but she’s my
con artist – like a sordid guide
who disrupts and delights

Bloody face guy stumbles down
the aisle of the plane all stunned
“Take me home, please,” he
whispers “take me home”
You may love her now
and hate her later

His raw dog emerges boldly,
growls foully within her sleep
There’s no day exactly
that inspired her to get old
If what you say is all made up
you’re a genius with insights

too fine to waste on me—
You needn’t raise your precious
mind to fool this naïve old guy
A half-moon like jewel shines
perfectly white in the night sky
Early morning darkness is

studded with emergent Spring pastel
purple, yellow and orange flowers
Today, it will be her allergies,
not some tragedy, that makes her cry
“Moulin Rouge” from 1952
was the tune that tinkled

from Mom’s music box
as a golden ballerina twirled on top
Magical stuff’s in the seer’s eyes
as we lay across some big slob bog
Are you trapped if you don’t know it?
Great changes slowly emerge

The description’s more real
than the ruins it describes
What if it turns out that
the day on the beach with you,
your kids and mine
was my happiest day?

We are assets to be used
as some corporate wizards dictate
while hicks, rubes and drivers of
second-hand Fords elect some
billionaire shit to lead us
This has all happened before

in an infinitely repeating
spire that cloaks in new
signs old stuff
In some other universe
I’ve figured this all out and
gotten the balances right

What do we want from celebrity?
When you look at the jewels in the sky
you see violent, magnificent fires
When she left I didn’t feel
empty this time—I used her and
she used me— all’s fair, I think

 

 

-April 22, 2017-