Children of the Partridge
But let us be for awhile and understand our differences
are as vast as they are human, bashful red shame
and boldly blue and bruising, because you’ve expressed explicitly
your contempt for matrimony were it to bind
my love for Al or Tony,
and while your convictions are
in some form birthright, my ‘afflictions’ are all the same
and although cruelty has a human heart so do your alien children
hiding in houses with aching smiling faces with your predisposition
that their custom threatening condition is a devastating disease,
such an easy disease and contagious as a yawn;
their why chromosome
which is just as ordinary as we are anxious to see a day where you
recognize that you cannot brutally shock out what shocks you down to your
antiquated and abrasive core because we do not leave our homes
to disrupt and upset the foundation of yours and the countless lies
you must preach to make it through each day absolved of sin
yet so involved in ours because of starchy retort scripted questions
I never cared to ask about
and starchy product scripted people
I never asked to care about,
simply because you are all so emotionally illiterate
and severely inarticulate when it comes to regurgitating the hundreds
of worms that have been whitewashed in the gizzard of
your white feathered friend— who was more likely a partridge—
and who gave us each his feather to dip into the vats of our own
freedoms and paint a life anew, only for you to take my feather
and say it belongs to you
and the colors of your flag,
but just as you, colors fade and colors run
when there are more colors to your son
than thoughts left between us
in this one light room
in this heavenly museum
where you believe man’s amazing paved maze
should dictate paths we take;
but now my tongue has tangled me toothless
and the age old debate, like the Garden of Eden,
remains fruitless,
so while on the steps of my love you spit,
remember,
you cannot look at the sky
without looking right through it.