A Poem by Anon ymous
Love is a great punishment for desire. (Anne Enright)
Agent Orange kills everything beautiful, even love. (Unknown)
We were sinless and uninterrupted [me, high hat handed; feathered
and full], [you, shiny; looking all dynamite wrapped in a summer
coat in the middle of February] you kissed me kissed me but never
said goodbye. I sit; testified and hungry, watch every [one] thing
fall: the wasted and the wan, the soundless and thin, the deserved
and the unearthed; the fortunate, unready and unfiltered: ashes,
ashes [we’re all messed up]. The sky is ordinary; we are untogether
and wanting. Your window faces east, I remember paper butterflies
[blue, green, red] on a string; mine is blank and frosted; directionless.
The butterflies dead. The bees dead. Monsanto kills everything.