Oh, boys ARE dumb, aren't they?

Some I Just Consider

Everywhere around you, things are being
abandoned. I am embarrassed
by the broken birdcage, being fixated on
the moment of alight. Stop
saying words. The bird I wanted for this
metaphor is gone, but you
can see that on the stoop, empty white
plastic and filigree. Neither
symmetry nor reason has brought you to me,
but I. I am not purchased,
I've been free. Which is awesome. I am
sleepless in your tiny studio
for weeks. I could be little more than a habit
of diction, a familiar, known.


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