Tuesday, February 8, 2011


Patience is the unimpeachable
chivalry of a straight line; poems 
are just blood and bones, one 
unreasonably mad with the other; 
pride is the boisterous sadness 
of a defaced old coin; youth 
is a dead man's treasure, wistfully
squandered when he was young; 
love is a bloodless papercut, 
sudden, invisible and stinging; anger is 
a stirring serenade to the old neighbour's 
dead cat; maturity is the unflinching art 
of pretending to be somebody else; 
defiance is a rock in the window 
on the seventy ninth floor; idealism is a 
polka-dotted napkin one moment and
a burning tongue the next; happiness 
is the curious devotion of a 
ticking clock in a deserted house; childhood is 
a blue swallowtail, delicate cheekbones
stretched taut into an endless smile; simplicity is 
a rainbow captured in monochrome.