ODA A PABLO NERUDA
I keep your picture in the birdcage
With the door open in case you want to fly around the room,
Your big, soft, deer eyes
And doughy face
Make me waste time
When I’m supposed to be working.
I imagine you in a coffee shop
Writing undying love poems
To women you see walking by,
Making people think you really
Know something about living.
You run out of women,
So you write about the salt,
And the tomatoes and the lemon
That some real people are using in the kitchen
To make something real to eat.
Some food that will be warm and taste good.
Why don’t you help me get my work done,
So I can rest with you in the café,
And then we can go for a fly around the room together?
You can write about the feeling
Of the curve of my back against your big hand
And the sweet taste of my breath,
And how our love will never end.
~Viola Moriarty