Saturday, December 12, 2015


I want an armored icebox, one made by hand
and formed with the craft of love. I want the hinges to
sing and the interior light to be always on.  I want to
have compartments for everything, and bins and trays
for all sorts of food and drink.  I want the world to
take from my containers, and feed itself on this bounty.
This is not unreasonable to ask, is it?
I have always been brought up to believe
that beauty is an inner thing, and strength
a nasty trap that gets you nowhere.
Therefore, while I wither
the rest of the world 
can prosper.

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