Butterfly (2000)
Flew in from a small town – a grubby white thing
and now you think I’m pretty
pin me up in your city
where I can’t see the flowers -
I’m losing more than the powder
on my wings.
Collecting – I guess that’s your thing.
Am I that rare specimen
Or just another moth that knew
And flew
Too close to the light?
I guess that’s why
You keep me in the dark.
Parked.
Parked without a ticket in a towaway zone.
Waiting for the undertow to suck me under
Under the water…
Under the weather…
Whether or not I deserve it,
Preserved.
Recycled plastic ghetto
reeks of Skippy.
Anaphylactic blades of grass
Get passed
Through the holes in the top – oh look
The sky is falling, falling
Falling all around me
Whether or not I deserve it
Preserved for you in that shadow box.
I am your butterfly,
Put me in a jar and
Watch me
peel off my wings
(it’s called de-evolution)
Get out your magnifying glass
so you can
see
me
cry.