Tuesday, February 07, 2012

Another Poem About Chrysanthemums

No, I will not smoke
your cigarettes.

I won’t drink your wine
when you’re dancing drunk,
head-bowed about the room.

You kiss the rising Pleiades
and hug Arcturus going down.

You are like Simon living on a marble pillar,
casting soddy judgments on emperors and plebeians alike.

How powerful a man is
who demands his 
hat and single pinch of salt
but forswears a lover's touch.

At our place, peace reigns,
peace and a quiet song. 

All the rain-littered birds
raise placid eyes to you.

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