Does being yourself mean you’ve built a castle
and recycled defeat into higher walls and new
turrets for protection?
Except everything comes and goes in life
emotions are never planned and who wants
to walk around carrying a loaded gun
or sharp rejoinders all the time?
Ever thought of the opposite approach?
not armor-plating yourself to attack
but becoming a nonresistant fluid
a pass-through medium clear water
At this point in the poem a confession:
I still duck back into my fortress if it
looks like a sticky situation has stirred
me into a thick and viscous liquid
Comments