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I Have News for You
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There are people who do not see a broken
playground swing
as a symbol of ruined childhood
and there are people who don't interpret the
behavior
of a fly in a motel room as a mocking
representation of their thought process.
There are people who don't walk past an empty
swimming pool
and think about past pleasures unrecoverable
and then stand there blocking the sidewalk for
other pedestrians.
I have read about a town somewhere in
California where human beings
do not send their sinuous feeder roots
deep into the potting soil of others' emotional
lives
as if they were greedy six-year-olds
sucking the last half-inch of milkshake up
through a noisy straw;
and other persons in the Midwest who can kiss
without
debating the imperialist baggage of
heterosexuality.
Do you see
that creamy, lemon-yellow moon?
There are some people, unlike me and you,
who do not yearn after fame or love or
quantities of money as
unattainable as that moon;
thus, they do not later
have to waste more
time
defaming the object of their former ardor.
Or consequently run and crucify themselves
in some solitary midnight Starbucks Golgotha.
I have news for you—
there are people who get up in the morning and
cross a room
and open a window to let the sweet breeze in
and let it touch them all over their faces and
bodies.
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