SIVVY

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

I think of all the decades
I eked it out
and scratched it out
and to what end 
I ask myself  
but I did it
and I still don't know
why you couldn't manage
the simple multi-tasking
of putting one foot forward
and then the other one
and then the other one again
it's called life
and I still don't know why
with all you had
and what you left behind
you didn't want it.

Yes, I'm pissed at you
having seen most of your pictures 
and there are a lot of them
(I can't...I can't...get over 
 that white bathing suit)
and falling in love with a dead
legend is strictly the purview of
hopeless romantics and I raise
my hand
no longer
ashamed 
having been around
a few live ones in my time.

And you need to know that there
is the person and there is the legend
and the two don't necessarily have
to have a lot to do with one another. 

But the legend
rolls head over ass downhill
in all that white powder 
until it becomes larger than life 
or at least as big
as Frosty's balls and 
that's disproportionate to what
any human can carry.

In you last collection
you mentioned carbon monoxide
multiple times--
you were dropping hints
like Hansel and Gretel 
with a loaf of Wonder Bread.

Yes, you weren't right in the head.
Is that all we're going to say?
Is that where we should leave it?

Maybe, like me,  
you asked yourself
to what end...to what end... 
and saw the answer come up empty.

You wrote: We should meet in another life,
we should meet in air, me and you.

I'm just crazy enough to think
you might have been talking to me.