Poem: Settled Issues

The darker the berry the sweeter the fruit.

The higher the thread count the better the suit.

Extraneous issues pretend to be moot.

But inside our dreams they squawk and they hoot.

Now you want to challenge me?

Pay the fee? Catastrophe

of misunderstanding and misoversitting

of petty hair-splitting and imprecise fitting –

it’s coming our way like a tropical storm

heaving and howling and breaking the norm

the usual form

once hot now warm

dispensed with gleefully, wistfully, fitfully, cheerfully.

Knowing the new means knowing the free

means knowing you’re part of the air and the sea

and everything then and all that will be

means knowing that you are actually me.