tie the package together,
and if there is only air inside,
smile and take it to the fête.
wear shoes that clash.
don’t wash your hair
(white to a wedding not
what does it matter
if you were seen naked, riding the
moon three nights ago to a climax,
or if that was you
wantonly splayed across the fence of a new lover’s last stanza..?
….it’s called poetic license.