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I have thought about trivialising this
paring its bass notes down
to a simplified list or
hiding behind cheap laughs,
faced with impossible tasks
I have been known to panic
left with only my poor excuses.
Unwilling to accept
that I am unable to do justice.
What words would work
to describe a half-dream
to kneel before a deity
ignoring these dimples, for once,
and attempt to find truth.
This tongue is lacking
my flesh is weak, and I am not
the creator I hope to be.
Only an imitation, a parody
of artfulness, another poem
about a poem
trying to sound myself on your lips
turn circles on your inner most thoughts
drip juicy fresh as genius
from the idea of you.
Reaching, fingersbreadth from beauty.
And manage, optimistic, to succeed.
And leap, evermore, into the dark.

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