I guess I’ll just feel sorry for myself


I can’t feel sorry for

The tiger-freckled flowers periscoping day

The feathered breakfasters, there’s always two prospecting

The call that went through, embraced the other side and bathed in milk like a Minke calf confetti-dancing ‘cross the Arctic circle with his mother who will always love him always

I can’t feel sorry for

Miano’s tragic personnages rising as salt-sun from the slick split textbook sea

The caved-in angel of prosthetic china wings who flit-falls somewhere next door

The singer, 3 full inches on my screen, arms open to the love that flowers from her eviscerated Cheongsam ’round her lily-stem waist

She doesn’t need my tears, my sponge-heart squeezing ’til all that’s left is (plunk!) a kidney stone devoid of moss, devoid of tears because I’ve cried always and always

The flowers jingle in the breeze despite the sudden chill

And still I have these tears that need to wither someone’s blossom


I can’t feel sorry for

The poor deprivèd others who will all go home tonight

To a cell phone bright with pink emoticons or a just half-empty bed

Or even to a paper waiting to be written as a dog waits for his human to finish lollygagging and take him by the leash to the end of always and always where the salt sun sets

I can’t feel sorry for the day that dies only to reawake

And so you see I have no choice

All that’s left is me.


Image credits in order of appearance:

Image described as: Neogonodactylus, Nov 18, 2005. Found on https://www.tonmo.com/gallery/octopus-aculeatus-eggs-near-hatching.2717/




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