M2... Poem by RIC BASTASA

of what use is the
whiteness?

the purity that you
have maintained in the color of your
soul

of what use is the red
in your center?

it is just a piece of art
pure aesthetics without any function at all

forbidden flap
full of flimsy fabrications

you cannot put salt in a flower and
say you want to preserve it
like some sort of peppered pickles

white soon shall turn to a bruise
freshness into a contusion

ponder upon the shortness of the life span
of the butterfly

get wild like a snake
bite, bite, if needed, bite the delicious apple of discord

savor.