How Dare You Quote Whitman

Sonny, (I can call you that because I’ve grey and am much older than you)

You don’t look like a man who’dve (proper grammar? I surely don’t care)

Said what you said (but you said it, and it stole my heart)

In Chapter 25 (chapter twenty-five., to be precise)

Or even a man who’dve been able to “focus” this long (though you lay claim to seeing its virtue, so I’ll believe you)

Given the amount of time (I’ve spent more than my fair share of it and secretly believe it’s ubiquitous)

And number of exhalations I know (I know) it took away

From your habitual daydreaming (I’ve a penchant for it, too)

I could (sadly, I will) continue sharing unrequited love-jabs here

But it’s late and the (glorious, but damned) mosquitoes have made their entrance

So I laugh (always — most often at myself), and tuck your bookmark (thanks) in my bra strap (ha) instead of your book (your book, bravo) and go inside for the night (and, how dare you quote Whitman?!)

Goodnight (goodnight)

Bunk

Isn’t it enough to send you
The notion
The gall
The balls of it all

What white coat ought you report to 
‘Twas witchcraft
‘Twas lies
‘Twas dust in your eyes

All the hell you put yourself through
To know life
To thrive
To More Than Survive

Parrot

What if I offend you
Then anger
Then praise

Should I lift you up here
Or mirror
Or lead

You use me as lifeblood
Your backboard
Your tee

What role ought I pursue
If any
If all

Know with all assurance
You’re a fig
Now speak