Tuesday, July 13, 2010
I write like James Joyce
He gave himself to you
Like a big bright birthday cake
With swirls of creamy icing
And candles you could never blow out
For a marriage he gave you a party
He danced and played the clown
Twisting balloons into hearts
And singing funny songs for the crowd
The guest of honor was the boy
You'd loved and desired all along
And while you laughed at your clown
You saved your secret smiles for the other one
When the tears streaked the grin
Your clown painted on for you
Even the muzzle in his mouth
Couldn't blow away the pain fast enough
So he took his bitter show on the road
Searching for his angel of light
But a demon found him first
And seduced him like a lover in the dark
Omatha, you're not guilty
But your faithless face haunted him
And those girls never knew what he meant
When he said, "Omatha, this one's for you."
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