I cannot stand in the midst of this grand parade anymore.
You, so sure of your transience, so obscure in your fear,
Pretend to hold me dear as you hold your colors, bright.
Your costumes, your epic light, your painted faces
Glow in the spaces of my mind. A carnival of shades,
A spectacular parade that oozes through my mind like oil.
You, so quick to spoil my revenge with your grand act;
You, who lack the courage to attack or stand down;
You, now crowned in your jesters’ hats and bells;
You, who cast a festival of spells that blind my eyes.
Your spectacular is quick, and then you fly.
Your eye meets mine but briefly, and you leave
As I cleave to the spectacle you leave behind.
Where can I find a color so great and so sweet
As meet within the hollow of your cheek as you pass by?
What eye could be so decorated in the day?
I must, I must find a way to keep the temporary gleam
Of the dream of your parade through my insane head.
Instead of following blindly, I become a part of the absurd.
My words are confused, my face is painted bronze,
I don the garb of clowns, I dress in a spectacular array
Of colors gay and bright
Until the temporal parade is the moment of my life.
8 June 2008