The Perfect Ones
The perfect ones
The beautiful ones
The right ones, the just ones, the nobles ones
The ones who never break
down crying in restaurants,
who never do anything in secret that they would be ashamed of
The normal ones
The healthy ones
The ones who always plan ahead
The content ones
The happy ones
The ones who work hard
and reap the benefits,
who brush and floss after every meal
The well-adjusted ones
The popular ones
The ones who never disappoint,
who grow up to be president
The lucky ones
The ones with perfect skin and perfect teeth and perfect figures
The ones who want what they have and have what they want –--
They don’t exist
The ones posing as them
are even more fucked up than you.
Poem for Rob Plath
Walk outside if you can –
or go to a window and open it.
Close your eyes
and sniff the air.
Listen –
What do you hear
calling on the wind?
Are the birds singing?
Are the crows cawing?
Do you hear
the rhythmic throb
of city traffic?
The cycling trill
of car alarms?
the cry of children
At play?
Open your eyes –
see the patterns
of light and shadows
the play of the wind.
begin your education
in the language
of nature.
Well observed and great advice. I was UAW lifetime. An interesting idea would be unionizing poets. Maybe a novel about it. Rejected demands leading to a strike. "Walt Whitman Shrugged." Fine poems, sir.
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