What Are We? Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

You’ve been told
By strange mouths
That we are but
Humans who are apt
To be loved
Or be committed to
Something
To be in some place
At the same time
Or with lucid
Intervals in between.

But this is more
Than just two people
Meeting at some place
With irrelevant cacophonies
Of the birds and the
Stringed-choir that had
Cob-webbed voices.
It was more than just
Two people
Intimately kissing at a park,
Keeping little photographs of.

What are we,
But mad and foolish men?
We pull to break,
We let in
To destroy,
And we destroy
To let them in.
This abhorrent cycle
Has gone into your systems.
I’ve been
Fighting this malady
For long,
And I think,
This is just me,
Talking to some bland reader
That would tell me,
“Aye, what a hapless boy.”

You’re hapless.
You never believed me when
I said that
We let in to destroy,
And we destroy to let in.

But I couldn’t blame
The populace.
What are we,
But only
Mad fools.