You ask questions of others,
but never provide your answers:
others’ stories, others’ lives, pried open,
but what is your story – – your life?
the psychically damaged mom,
the patriarchal dad, the gay brother:
where are you in this parade
of American middle-class clichés?
Standing on the curb waving a flag,
your lip trembling on the edge of tears,
worried someone might discover
the frightened secrets of your heart?
You stand in the middle of love
denying the possibility of its existence.
(May 8, 2014)
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