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This poem is queer.

It might let you call it that
but won’t promise what that means.
It won’t play slave to the anthology
nor will it toe the line (unless it wants to).

This poem does not have a label.
It’s left the box behind and forgotten the pan.
These phrases chose their own way;
they chose the fire.

This poem may not fit your world view.
It may not have the parts that you’d assume
in all the places you’d assume them
but you can find its heart, right here in the center.

This poem knows love…magnificent love,
even in hard times of fear and hate.
It might hotly kiss a limerick on the mouth
whether or not you’re not looking.

This poem beautifully is,
and is uniquely about itself.
It eschews “meets expectations”
and opts instead for “delicious”.

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Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
kenllama
Apr. 26th, 2011 10:37 pm (UTC)
splendid being, your opting for the delicious is one of the things about you that has always thrilled me =)
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

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