the happy

have you ever
loved the moon
and wednesdays
and afternoon
with binding
bland daylight
and footsteps and
bland folks with
good souls that
live gold in
loved land of
canned old –
all fresh blanched
in sentimental
saccharine,
brushed lightly with
light salted
flag-waving reverence
at room temperature,
garnish generously
with harshly picked,
warm negotiation
and sweet peppered
hypocrisy?
every wing that
you could grow
to hypnotize
democracy is
criticized. now
realize that all
the world’s a
happy stage for
happy folks with
happy dreams,
come now, they
burn their pretty
lace, come now
they light their
pretty seams
of wedding gowns,
ornamented pretty
crowns, for the
happy, happy
diamond ring
to callowness,
with love. with
heartbeat, you see,
they don’t care what
you’re thinking of.
come hither, fiery friend,
come you, come hither
fiery foe,
to lands beyond amend,
come you, to dream
beyond the know,
love mediocre lovers
in their mediocre lie,
you fire, burn the sun,
you mortal star, you
burn the sky.

T. E. Pyrus

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