Vanilla Boy
written by: Steven Fortune
Defining me
is like spelling out
a hundred-letter word
Essence of existence seized
in a vowel-less commute
through a dreamless sleep
between the suns
of definition and identity
Applications of passivity
become of me then bail
on potential to become me
Nothing here to see
say the signature police
Move along evolving as you were
Vicissitude’s aloof
to the morose settlement
cited only in a mime around
the fringes of inclusion’s
stunned recess
Outspokenness seduces
in its transparent slip of tongues
Intellectual arousal cowers
under impotence of
aural relevance
Praying to the ghost of
Helen Keller for a shadow
based influence
I resent my senses
on the basis of
their comfort on a fence
Why am I denied
essential evidence?
What nuances seal
the appeal of pretense?
I can lay no claim to tragedy
I’m too preoccupied
with verbal travesties
and inclinations of Van Gogh’s spite
towards awarded senses
I’m inclined to take my eyes first
like an inconveniently
enlightened Oedipus
or have them taken from me
by a bastard boy
keen to my attempts
at nurturing to health
the wrongings of divine right
Gloucestershire sauce
imprints a bitter stain
on my incessant appetite
for gluttonous libations
of assured affirmations
- The Moment of Clarity - February 1, 2023
- The Last Poet - July 29, 2022
- Brooding Cross - May 21, 2022
