The Buffoons Had It Right

Smeared in lamplight, I braid my longing

into a challah & implore you to eat

my longing, or bring it to a public pond

& scatter it to the hungry ducks

that they may excrete my longing into

the scummy water. What could have been

so important? I shall tear my vision board,

pin it with a kitchen knife onto the elm,

forget what I visioned & go dancing.

No longer will I remember what I thought

I was put here to do, no longer will I sigh

or dream of tracing a collarbone. It’s only

me & the ducks, my allies, mishpocheh,

my irritating seraphim, we thrive

together in the orchard, honking orbs

out of the trees. Soon I will be like them,

stiff wings cranking me through the sky,

clown-mallard sentry patrolling the air.

Listen to me: the buffoons had it right.

I will take the vow of foolishness.

I will fill my days (forgive me Lord,

I forgot to suffer) with apricots.