Failure
The kings are boring, forever
legislating where the sparkles
in their crowns will be. Regal is easy.
That’s why I wear a sinking fragrance
and fall to pieces in plain sight.
I’ll do no crying in the rain.
I’ll be altruistic, let others relish the spectacle –
as one subject to seizures of perfection
and fragments of success,
who planned to be an all-girl god,
arrives at a flawed foundering,
deposed and covered with the dung
and starspit of what-is,
helpless, stupid, gauche, ouch –
I’ll give up walking on water.
I’ll make a splash.
Onlookers don’t want miracles.
Failure is glamorous.
The crash course needs its crash.
Page(s) 67
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