grown

two grown men, artist types,
or at least of the kind who are sitting at the coffeehouse drawing cartoons
in the middle of a Monday work day
giggling like middle schoolers at the absurdity of
"Song of Songs"

I am a horse!  My neck is an ivory tower!  I have all my teeth, and they're lined up like sheep! I am your daughter!  Your sister!  I'm sexy and I know it!  I am a prized treasure!  I am food!  My boobs are grape clusters! Let us go fornicate under the apple tree where I was conceived!

The whole world is ripe for a laugh if you can control the anxious fits long enough to get there.
And if the timing is right-
It is not always the right time to laugh.

the day before a gradual relinquishing of freedom
trading real hours
for dollar bills and insurance coverage i will not use,
gripping onto the freedom offered in the endless expanse of an unbounded (however burderned) mind
like a ten dollar raft
in white water

You Bright and Risen Angels 
with margins like wingspans
i have yet to write in
mark up
connect
misconstrue
overdo
read right through

i really hope i get to you
sometime between the foam
so we can see how much we've grown
or at least survived the time

when they ask you if you are a writer
you say yes
you say yes