Disarmed!

Can’t the mind see it?

Can’t it fantasize in seconds?

A sky in peach, apricots in blue

A boiling sea in a tranquil river?

They say it’s all created by the Grand Design

The trees         

The roots

The airy feathers

And the lump of flesh

From carnal delights!

And yet 

Why do the eyes cloud itselves

In sheaths of slimy delusions

In wraps of lies, wines, and glimmering city lights?

And yet 

Why don’t the hands bother -

To let go the lengthening shadows

And to fasten the distancing truths?

A drop of lust in love

Water in ink

And lie in truth

Makes it all sultry

Glossy

Likely!

-But-

Which fraudulence

Which artifice                  

Which impudence

Can make the worms less cankering

On a rotting corpse on a sequestered grave?