A question is a hook
To hang one's generation on; with
A period to act one's age within.
But with poetic vicesensuousness
I run that aging dot with
Youthful dashes to make
An immortal train of ellipses . . . .
I would rather be marked with dots
As lifted out of context,
Than be a period: a prim and proper prune.
So young one!
Give me a wiggle--
As you parse my door
Gender all tasseled and italicized:
Add some parentheses
To my life's sentence: ( )
And change my conjugation;
Or worse: ignore me.
Can't I stay in your paragraph?
It is just a gold ring
And not some other's section symbol.
Now I am blue-bracketed with laws
And moved down
As a dirty old semi-clause.
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