The Caveat Onus


fifty-six


I have a fear of flowers

their anatomy confuses me

the store-bought kind are meant to conjure

a magic one comes to expect

on the steps of a lighted porch

others lead a desperate life in a box

fastened to the window ledge

of a sixty-floor apartment building

I hope my mind never comes to that

the stakes are stacked against me

finding my way out of a lost beautiful feeling

is something I no longer want

to know how to do



fifty-five    sixty-four


Dave Brinks