Indirectly In The Despair Of Concealment Poem by RIC BASTASA

i always see to it
that i understand what a family is
when we went to a trip
we make the pact
inside the plane that moment when
we step upon the plastic floors of the tarmac
i have already seen the hint
we understand i repeat we always understand
when we were there at the saigon shopping complex
we too understand
the family segregates as one block
shields itself from our interference
we understand that
and so we too have to create our own path
go somewhere else
to the market to the park to the palace of the president
we must learn to enjoy things by ourselves
we are not really a family
but splinters of dreams
one must realize
to each his own no dependence
one makes a story
fabricates the rest of the characters
develops the plot
complicate matters and then
arrive at the resolution of the big conflict
finally i decide
a poem is better this way
intrepid, limpid, crisscross,
wanting to open but must only show the closed door
to reveal but only to arrive at the consensus
that it is better concealed
mouths silent, lips sealed
hands that dance in the sky enclosing the fingers
with the sun