Monday, November 13, 2017

WORDS ON A PAGE

Picture—
distilled artesian
room temperature water

in a smooth
and smudgeless
blue-rimmed vase

packed tight
with severed stems, with limpid
bloodless vampires.

This is pure poetry;
idealized,
sacrificed—in advance

on your behalf,
without your
having asked.

You can reckon, I guess,
but you just can't

argue with a present like that.
Do you still want it?

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