We Cannot Really Be Ourselves Poem by RIC BASTASA

your desires
are yours secrets
if they become
visible
they will see a
desert of
carcass where
vultures wait
for their double
kill

what is said
is superficial
these are the
norms and the
dictates of good
behavior of our
present time

when we arrive
in the house of our
best friend
we sit on his chair
inside the house
we are free
to sip coffee and
talk about anything
but mind you
we sift, and limit
our drift
' this is not our
house' you say
we cannot really
be ourselves
like cows on the
pasture
like a pig on
its sty.