Enriched Childhood

I had to make do
with what I could get
No, not like that.
It always felt like a weight,
yet useless for keeping me grounded
It felt like tiny knives,
cutting, bleeding, surreptitiously
draining excess energy
to keep me in line,
waiting
for unnamed reward.
I sleep fitfully
Dark dreams, I lust for your
lush evocations,
secret encodings of sacred quest
My journeys so circumscribed
predisposition gates in
I know there is more,
cruelly elusive enchantments
I was never deprived -- always
provided with just
the emptiness
necessary




Tourists

Visiting
in human suits
for a chance to wager
to unspin a tale
full coloured, full throated
spurting endocrine residue
to spray-paint our masterpiece
as if we could thus mark our
territory, save our place
as if any of this
mattered
back home