Alex is not drunk but is staring at me.
asks how the D word is and I say
dick?
and he says
depression.
I tell him my poetry loses its wishing-well shine
when I’m too happy. that I haven’t written in months.
he says you better invite me to the wedding.
He brushes my leg and is awkward teenager
blushing
I do not tell him I did not love him but
it was close.
that maybe it will be like this always.
that I hope he learns sleep and chasing spring in
a decked-out old van. sunburnt ears. wading all
the way in.
I have two years of I’m sorry and I’m so happy
you’re happy welled up in tired eyes and so I say
goodnight
and mean
thank you for teaching me love.
About the Creator
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A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
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