Entr’ackte

I cross vistas
Hurriedly... butter anxious to melt.
A waiting tree scares me.
Maybe you waited
Somewhere... and I left.
Yes, maybe I was
An empty saucepan
And you really were tired
Of frozen foods.

Newer yous shag.
Some decrepit, some
Fresh from the oven.
Yes, that’s one gift
You did leave me.

Even if my groins leak
Ill still be running
With my cake
Across new vistas
Remembering you
Each time I see
A waiting tree.