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werewolf
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dancing came,
all amongst stupid spring.
stupid but not evil fall
solemnly seeks a mate.
you know it's on his mind
cannot help but be
forgivably so, to the degree
that you can pretend
that when he asks you
how your day was
where you'd like to eat dinner -
he's asking just that
because you already know
he's asking more.
all that aside you let the questions
stand on their own
and the dancing comes too.
if it's secondary to the music
be damned.
there's no point in fighting it,
but to see what extra
can come to you
all among the stupid spring.
what matters is not the purpose
but our purpose.
and so when asked to dinner
do not see the stillborn
pandering of sad fall
the lust of countless
redundant empires
of son i want to be like my father
or mother i cannot but love
these innocently inelegant
infants, who enslave me
against some inhuman truth
that in my younger years
felt possible
because i really thought
in fleeting moments
that i had no skin against
the hard computations
of light and torque
in stars and music notes.
do not do not do not.
the dance comes too.
do it because it's fun.
fun to not be just a thing
amongst the stupid spring
and in not being a thing
just being a thing.
and our skin is our torque,
the stars look at us
with no less distance
or desperation
there part to glimmer
our part to name
as the dance comes too
not stupid but not evil fall
or stupid spring alone
but fun both.
us and the stars
and his question
what would you like to eat for
dinner, and his real question
and yes, it's admirable
this endless stupidity.
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050225
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