I bought a rose
to give to you
a windy day
the petals flew
from the stem
to the street
i tried to catch them
with my feet
i got to your door
you looked to see
through the peep hole
right at me
you let me in
and i just froze
i gave you a stem
that was a rose...
that was a rose
the angel with the cut wings laying on the pavement bleeding from the fall choking on her own teeth.
it goes like this, the fourth the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift.
the brave little toaster
better than poetry
is my poetry
which refers
to everything
that is beautiful and
dignified, but is
neither of these itself