the shadowy guide through my dreams
“every poem is a love song
don’t you know that?
there was a poet
who broke that rule
he found the thorn
stabbed thru his heart
pulled it out by hand
made sure his heart kept beating
then attached his thorn to a cactus
and discovered the world had grown cold
the sun’s light weak
and the moon’s icy
yes, his heart beat stronger
and he laughed more often
but his ears no longer heard stories
when an old man sighed
or a child wept
flowers turned their backs on him
breezes avoided him
and young women’s eyes
looked past him
he ran back to the garden
but could not find the cactus
he asked the gardener who said
‘damnedest thing, it died
but have you seen my roses?’
so when the gardener left
he wrapped his heart in a rose stem
making sure the thorns stung it
but when he stood back
the rose wilted
and he saw the world through cataracts
a little yappy dog
gnawed at his ankles
so his lines broke
and his verbs slithered
his nouns turned purple and grey
and people asked him
‘why don’t you write poems like before?’
and he thought he knew
but couldn’t say
just like you do now”
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