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If I could pile one bad poem on top of another
wall to wall, ceiling to floor
until even a Demon would freak and need to flee from the horror of it all
would you trust me...in that pause...to give you a love poem.
Were I to wrap the Monster in a flannel cloth drenched in gasoline
set fire to it and burn to a crisp
til nothing remains...not even ash
Would you tremble the next time I light a match
to the candle in your room
With magic I would make creatures of exquisite
loveliness and inspired unending passions
when placed in the shadow of the Demon.
Would the scent of sex expel him from the place
and leave you there to cry
all the pleasure
awashed in the tears you hold for ransom?
If the walls awakened and became conscious;
had thoughts about Babies, Quarter moons, Creek fishing
Shooting Stars
Would they close in on the Demon
make him confused; lost
facing his truth
that he is an illusion
Good CAN BE the other side of illusion.
The next breath transforms him into
Bubbles...Birds...Desert spaces......
IF you are ready.
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