weep

weep for the indifference of the flying fish
toward what is troubling me now

weep for the absence of long haired blondes
in nylon showing me leg almost up to their crotches

weep for the sadness of me speaking of sadness
riding it like a 90 to one shot down the stretch

weep for that fucker Bach who created 21 children
before the traffic signal was invented

weep for the suckerfish

weep for the grandfather clock

weep for weeping.


the concept naturally has no conception
the doors open in and out
teeth are pulled.

I forgive the indifference of the flying fish
toward what is troubling me now

I forgive the butterfly and the moth and the
whore.

I forgive decimation and defeat
I forgive the first redhead to dangle my psyche
through her fingertips.

I was sold
long ago.