Great, the aspirations of youth
grown into the bucked and slanted
off color for character's vacuum
stripe work of a tie and cuff link
with matching suit and case and shadow's
passioned echo in tacky briefs
close to the vest and the heart
that still remembers when
guts were guts and it didn't matter
whose name was embroidered
on the inside pocket of a jacket
never worn in tandem with
the labor of the hands and brow
all wrapped and ready to grind
another year off of a life
misgiven to the pursuit of a mania
failing to cover the micro
in favor of implanted mega and
while I'm getting you coffee and
checking your weather and candy dish
for keys I pant behind my eyes,
a dog at window's sill, because today
instead of conquering the world
you'll find something of yourself fulfilled
a planted flag and peace unfurled
with nightfall's certainty
in the rolling waves and pastures grazed and
lawless open sea covering the ground
you tread when you come home and
inside of me.
