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undevastate
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Q
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Undevastate Me
You have taken off almost all your site,
all your poetry with its pictures,
and left just the untippable, tightly spinning ballerina,
with some new, nearly empty things:
an image standing with her back turned,
moveable scrabble pieces not amounting to solitaire,
and an unfinished sentence.
I have sought mostly
only your arrangements of assembled words
and what you afford them as surroundings.
Again and again, all I have pleaded for
has been that you update
what you had on there;
not take everything off.
In less desperate moments, I fancy
you have had some epiphany of renewal,
that, when it came,
pressed some button of urgency,
curled your toes,
rolled your eyes back,
drove your mind to plow everything on autopilot,
to remove you with your past
into a period of pointless time,
to clear your gallery,
to land you,
in a more nearly tearless valley
of freshness and opportunity,
to be manifested
soon.
Tell me,
please,
my hope is happening.
Please,
first chance you get,
please,
undevastate me.
_______________________________________________________
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050501
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what's it to you?
who
go
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blather
from
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