Pieces of a Sequence
Chris Stroffolino


She said I was grumpy
But earlier today I was sneezy
And maybe by midnight I'll be doc
To return home again
To go over the usual bridge
We had just for the first (& maybe last) time
Seen from below, a taste of my own medicine
At least of the medicine I distributed
Habitually, only it didn't seem like a habit at the time
Certainly not an addiction, but free choices
(it didn't even seem singular), or a compulsion,
A feeling of being overcome by a confiding generosity
Begot by the repressions of the abstract,
The repressions of all but the theoretical
Felt as too tight & limiting a philosophy
Enough to let self-disclosure seem an aleatory demon
Enough to leak some uppity chocolate
In the angelfood cake handed to me as sweet
When I would have preferred strawberries and water

I came pretty damn close in my dispensations
To stopping wanting strawberries and water
And maybe it was at that moment we found each other.
There's a saying, "it is only when you stop searching
You find." So I congratulated myself on finding you
As if my searching for the anti-you brought you hither
With my seven dopey sins whistling while they work
Unable to console the snow until they quit their jobs
And bring home no bacon but Princes Gluttony & Sloth.
Yep, grumpy --

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