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Sonnet for Sweetypies
Sometimes a sweetypie has nothing to lose
when the black crags crack and muscle apart
like tectonics or brûlée. Sometimes a sweetypie,
though deeply moved, has nothing important to say,
and scours the dank tunnels of subways
for someone to say it to. Sometimes it takes two:
two shoes, two ferrets, two roller coasters careening
to a variety of doom known acutely by sweetypies,
and sometimes therefore a sweetypie just wants
another sweetypie to rub a bit when the lights go dim
and the heart monitor blips to its thin white whine.
Sometimes it takes time. Sometimes there is no
“him,” no “her,” no “I.” Sometimes it’s said
there isn’t even a sweetypie.
Posted 09/04/09