Rigmarole
RIGMAROLE HIM OVER!
I plan unevenly!
the boy in the backyard,
he slanders,
“I am the boy breaking in the four-leafed clover!”
but I
steal his birthmarks
and pin them to my knees --
to enrapture!
infuriate
and
plead,
“God, give this boy to ME!”
the wind howls when the lightening
steps upon her furrowed brows,
and if only that boy WERE mine,
the sun himself would take on a
brighter shine --
the sea would chuckle with mirth,
and every wise thing would be given
a second chance at birth.
This I would promise you unsecurely --
but with all my heart!
and even when the empire falls,
the people are never quite
torn apart --
all this science is just unnecessary
explanation!
someday love will truly punish this unruly nation --
how ‘bout now?!
Underneath our gathering
the smoke twists and that backyard boy begins to zing!
he’s like the cancer of the bone --
and when he smiles, my strength begins to roam.
21 to 23, I’ll beg and shake with misery
but by the time my ankles can withstand his grin
he WILL be mine!
and we will populate the earth,
with light and speed and such unruly din,
the populace will curse!
but everyone
will feel the depths of our blatant absence --
once we are done
with our living!