Pet
For Cynthia
I
If you could have wrapped me in cedar
(that’s impossible) I think it would have been
A kind of act of sorrow, but then again
It wouldn’t slide inside the mouth
Of Love so easily, would it?
Sometimes I think it’s a little perv
A little peeping tom, a nark of some-sort
The way it looks at me. The way it looks and feels
To me is so bizarre. But I can handle it.
There was this big, big, car that stopped before
I had the time to get it out of the way, and well
I just dropped it there. It wasn’t the most pleasant thing,
No- not so pleasant
She wasn’t trying to speak like that, do you know
But she did, and that’s what really hurt, that way
She looked hurt most. But I have no remorse.
And I just don’t really care about anything else.
To talk like this, it kills me.
II
I had it in my hand but I did not understand its importance
So I slung it on my back and walked away from all
The pain, all the pleasure, all the need that it was wanting
Sometimes. Even pets need that nurturing.
Well, I did feed it once with some looks and some winking of
The eyes. But it didn’t want to bounce back from that one
Time. And you know? I just stopped right there, and looked
Down at it. I exclaimed that, “You shouldn’t act this way!”
Sometimes, I just wish that you had wrapped me in the oak.
That cold hard thing, that never moves, never beholds another
God with it’s own sentient eye. No, Love wouldn’t have worked that
Way. So I guess I’ll make do with this thing.
III
Sometimes, I find that the poem makes it jealous.
When I get up, when I go somewhere to learn more about this poem
This great thing, yes it gets very jealous. It’s almost unstable, mind you,
And calls people up looking for me. Sometimes It calls me and wonders
Why I wasn’t there to pet it or caress it or whatever.
When new days come, it’s the only thing that gets up.
No it’s the only thing that gets me up, you could say.
It scares me sometimes the things I do for it.
It really does. You know what I mean?
Well, like I said, it’s hard to Judge this thing.
It weighs you down and puts those things in you
To make one erect with joy or fly with no restraints
Of what another thinks of us or you
You know what I mean?
I guess it’s only normal to have this thing with me.
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