Saturday, March 5, 2011

There was time when I was sweet…



There was time when I was sweet…


When baby rabbits
would suckle
buttercup nectar
from my fingertips,

and bums would eat
fresh strawberries
right from my
outstretched palm.

But as I grew
to adolescence,
some imperceptible
thing changed.

A lonesome sadness,
was awakened,
and soon

the wild things
trusted me
no longer,

and I was left
with no choice but
to seek the company
of more domesticated
beasts.

But the suburban
girls did not like me,
and their boyfriends
found me different
and strange.

Old folks seemed
to like me well enough,
but their condition
made me sadder, and

I sensed they liked me
only because,
ultimately,
I was like
one of them:

fidgety,
lonesome,
cranky,
abandoned,

wandering placeless,
unwanted, as if
we reminded the others
of something inside
of them each
they hoped

our absence could
dispel, or in the least
displace for some
while near a lifetime;

so, unmolested
they could float
along upon
the current of
their illusion.

Finally, I swore
the elderly off.

I bought cool clothes,
started to talk
like a rapper.

I told everyone I met
I was born in jail

and that

I was the nigga that
really killed Tupac.

Eventually, I went
to business school,
earned an MBA,

dressed business chic,
leased a Bimmer,
purchased
a riverside loft
inside of which
I'd planned
to fuck hot models

and to eat
hot pie
with a
glass fork
anytime
I pleased.

And that is the story
of how I became
a cock.