The Bachelor Falls in
Love with Eyes Wide Open
Too often the rose,
too often the heart,
too often the sickly sweet
buzz of dead Roman gods I want to
fall with eyes open,
stand on the ledge and push,
film-reel spokes of passing of floors to the
pavement, these avenues of air,
this accident of love’s birth.
Spin like a star to my side,
line me up like so many
steely-eyed potatoes and
slice me into your stew I
will not blink.
Notes: At a certain age, one sees the signs of impending infatuation and welcomes the process, but also enjoys the opportunity to dodge the old cliches. Feel free to insert "This England" after the second stanza.
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