The Word, 'we' Poem by RIC BASTASA

we understand
that everything is personal

we like you to know
but we have reservations

reality is dark, stark,
most often, ugly as we call it

we invoke art, someone that
arranges a scattered room
into a good looking house
from the point of view
of the road and the
cars and those that merely
pass by

we call on someone reliable,
to calm the dog, to call the bird back
to its cage,
to mow the grass
to make all things neat and clean
and presentable

we all love beauty, and smoothness
we like sweetness, and pine scented outdoors
gentle winds, morning lights,
sea breeze, a peaceful neighborhood,
trimmed grass, well painted doors,
a system, a ledger, a well kept note,
a record of what happened


we understand that everything is
personal
on the other hand we too understand
what privacy is

do you want us to tell you only those
that you want to hear?
do you want us to lie?

here we are waiting at the outside of
things, waiting, and waiting,
we are from your ribs, we do not want
to hurt.