Apology
My mind is male.
It likes to go into a thing
and never come out.
I’m sorry about it.
It has an elaborate custom
of waking in a new place every morning.
By night it goes camping
with the simplest amenities,
and never makes a mistake.
Every fire is started
with vigorous success
and put out with equal flare.
My mind loves to look at a clock
and tell it how wrong it must be.
Imagine berating a clock!
Well, I have. Here, at this very moment,
I’ve made a watch so ashamed
that it’s holding its little arms still
and refusing to tell the truth.
My mind argues hotly with the past.
It finds every misstep and
brings it forward for questioning.
It’s beaten the past so soundly
it has changed, irrevocably, into the future.
Things are looking good.
I have an army of fearful subjects
that are ready to carry me anywhere.
Tomorrow, I plan to visit the hanging gardens
where plants drip all over themselves.
I’m sure they can be improved.
First, I will awaken to great confusion
in a sumptuous room filled with riches.
I trust I will have made every suitable arrangement.
2020-10-11 14:30:25
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