Friday, August 21, 2015

On Perspicuity

Almost true:
A flimsy promise 
I suspect it was known, that
your plan was homegrown

I, a nescient botanist
archetypal fool

You convinced me to campaign
For a weed,
as if, 
it were a flower.
Illusion of ardor 
Hooked to the bait

I did not know that 
Intrigue is everything,
only when it has nothing to hide.
Veneers are like shams that lie on sofa beds
to hide our seminal stains. 
They are not pleasurably mysterious 
like curtains that open to a frank world,
eager for breathtaking. 

Thank you for exfoliating
my naiveté:
I was mistaken, I
Confused inscrutability with challenge.

Even so, 
it is a new age now:
“l’amour nouveau”
We are patrons of candidness. It
flows uninhibitedly, just as natures do.

Mountains are proudly scaled by those who
saw their preeminent peaks
Long before 

trading in for better shoes.

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