Wednesday, February 27, 2013


You tell me
I am not sad.
You’re right.
In fact,
I have never known sadness.

I cannot grasp the idea
of intensity,
and my body reaches out
for passion,
for what makes you weep in the darkness of night
when you don’t know that i’m listening

I quivver and shake
like a dog
wagging its tail
at your cereal
at the breakfast table.
You say, “Dog, don’t you know
that you don’t eat these things?
Don’t you know that you weren’t meant
to experience the crunch
of a stale marshmallow heart
between your teeth?”

No, you’re right.
I’ve not known your sadness.
But like a hungry dog I wag my tail
at the foot of your table.