two roads.

having spent the past week in Chicago

I am cruel and a liar.

as cruel as the L

or prohibition. People have said

of my Midwestern scepter; my

beeswax wings, that I don't care

much about the sun at all.

The way strangers wait to peek

beneath my miserable dress. But I've been kissed

and remember the outward darting of

something warm on a mouth

that purses like  a strangers mouth.

For this I need to speak Chinese so as

my hanzi clings tight to corresponding symbols.

And when I say sex,

(when I say I need it),

I won't mean you laying on top of me,

only that the purest Chryseis

had stolen us. Only  that I had come to

that dangerous part of the dream again:

Like moss crowds the road parts of woods.

Frost's yellow, diverging, magnificent woods.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like the point of view...and the imagery is witty and stark....love allusion to Frost's "the road not taken"

and i always ask my student if the title refers to the road the speaker took or the one the speaker did not take.

i like "beneath my miserable dress"---

j.

[h d e rushin]

thank you Jacob for those kind words and good morning to you my friend....dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and good morning back to you, dana.

j.