Poems
by John
Swofford
As an item
Channeling the immediate past
i heard you coming “I came in last,”
dazzled by all the information
in a grocery store.
Stepping to the beat, over
the loudspeaker, sometimes
turning with the melody,
watch out, dear friend
you don’t belong here
tell me something inviting
like free healthcare is coming,
and i’ll be necessarily clear:
i want a king, a dictator,
someone to choose for me,
i shall act, imminently
to preserve your eminence
dear woman of the future,
well into your prime
having blossomed at a tender
age, and yet, withstanding,
we, as an item,
are just in time
Many things
don’t force me to be what
i’m not - a man of the hour
with one final shot
shoot brazenly over the moon
satellites a-coming
don’t leave me alone
“I’ll be there for you thick and thin,”
and the world (a stage)
shall deep-fake a sin
to keep me hidden
from those that should know
you must accept me
don’t i look forward, then?
i’ve every oat to sow
since, as it happens,
well, into my thirties
I saw no action -
just the thought that, now
(i mean in the future)
many things, for me, will grow
