untitled

on (the trouble with) audiences and adjectives 

and when you noticed

that i hadn’t written for a while

the turmoil began anew

because the pen, in fact,

had been intact,

and busy every night,

clothing naked words

into longing blues

– the only color there is

to match the intrigue

in their natural rounds –

and bedding them gently, knowingly,

onto the white and shiny

sheets of promise

or promiscuity depending

on the read of your eyes

which is where it starts

because his work, the pen’s,

is never really

or definitely rarely

complete until you

knock and sit and stay awhile,

because there is

just so awfully much

at stake, wouldn’t you agree.

and so the answer

merely remains

embedded in the small

and round yet rarely

harmless word

that’s widely used to

join two opposites

or others of different

kinds and the spirit

surrounding all of it

in oddity at times but

more so mutuality.