Saturday, March 5, 2011

About Me

I look good in a suit.

I am addicted to bees.

I puncture easily.

I am not God. I am not moose.
I am something in between.

I am furless and sad.

I chuckle at rain.

I dream of jaguars
(as they dream of me).

I assume the guise of foxgloves
so you will notice me.

I love the nakedness of thunderclouds,
of skin on skin,
soul on soul.

I wish to soar between spires
in a deep wet forest.

I shiver in the presence 
of truth.

I do the craziest things
to postpone fear.

I write stories 
on blades of grass.

Sometimes I am as cruel
as the root that trips the child.

Sometimes I squabble with God.

I walk on tiptoe
through puddles of tears.

Did I say I look good in a suit?

I am part nostril, 
part water, 
part phlegm.

God drew my face
with chalk made from stars.

I am soft flesh housing
hot spirit.

I see the world suffering
and know I am not alone.

Kiss me while I am water
for tomorrow I will be mist.

1 comment:

  1. Excellent poem, Ed. It's very much "you." Playful with moments like "Sometimes I squabble with God."
    Nice suit, BTW.