reception

reception

i wanted it, wrapped & labeled, but not then.

privately i could move my hands slowly, peel

the envelope’s lips & address the photos with a

cautious eye. public exchange does this.

here, take my poems, i want to say,

but they only look pretty while drunk, it’s an

absolute.

yet i want to be imperfect with you

we are afraid, it is

so fucking huge & liberating...

(& i forgot to mention, beautiful.)

january 2005