Goulash

A voice inside and out,
deep in the woods,
whispers, “I am the One you know.”
Waiting for the 112 bus,
the egg man appears.
In the musty city,
humans and mimics abound,
but the small guy with one eye
calls himself egg man.
In 1799, we sailed
from our English gardens
and found you.
Simulating futures
like peacocks spreading feathers,
we lovers, poets, and wizards
ka-choo ka-ka-choo with abandon.
Finding her heart,
how sweet it can be,
but she doesn’t know what he is.
She needn’t care;
to love is to be everywhere,
like love never dies.

No one can deny
something is there,
how good it can be,
beside me.

:: 03.19.2023 ::