Prose Poem(For Jimmy)
Don't stare at me with my beard unshaved. Shamelessly the swans glide, wings on a formless lake.
Don't say you love me,let's not do it as birds do it, bees do it, the fleas are uneducated as they buzz above the water's edge.
Turn and love me if you say you will, as medicine haunts the bottle when it is empty, love hurts,never goes away, while we write prescriptions,antidotes for a better world and day.
Do I love you? Swivel, man, pivot yourself in your own darling as new,as if you had never cared. That question's absurd. If I'd have forecast doom on your diagnosis oh pal you'd certainly have heard. Swans mate for life at the water's edge.
With thanks or apologies even to Cole Porter.
