The poem could be better i
thought.
If i would just give it
more time,
or one more important line.
But these things do take time,
and i got places to go.
The poem had my full attention once,
just like my last true love
and the dead fern.
I tried,
I watered
and loved,
rubbed
and spoke to it often.
(both the girl and the ferns)
But like i said,
just a little more time,
more political,
more hip hop
more for da yoots,
funnier,
less ethnic,
more ethinic-
(que chinga)
I don't know.
Fuck.
I think, this is what it is.
It is I.
Imperfect but loveable.
This is what it is.
I can't force it.
This is true for the poem, the girl and the fern.
I couldn't explain it quite right to my love,
and did an even worse job
explaining it to the dead ferns.
07'
No comments:
Post a Comment