usability question: was this poem hard to find? butterflies
i wrote you a letter on a very thin napkin that i tied to a butterfly's thigh in a restaurant where she never brought my water and i died of thirst and loneliness while waiting for the caterpillar you sent to weave the cocoon in which i could find the secret code that would answer the riddle of how to tie a note to the thigh of a butterfly and teach it to get back to where you are in the maze of spiders' webs and fly husks you built as an exploration of into the mental state of orb weavers after the ephedrine sprays.
this is an effort in desperation and thirst, still, because the pretty, black-haired girl didn't get the irony of the 40 cent-tip and the butterfly floundered in my coffee so i'm stuck writing to your impatience and i can't begin to breathe in the dry white air of superiority your caterpillar offers to the gods of drink and drama, who deserve their own poem.
Suffice it to say, as another cliche goes, that the good guy isn't exactly first and i'm sorry about the caterpillar but i was thirsty. |
