I want to be perfect

at all times I demand perfection

and more so now at this moment

                      at this sublime moment.

 

Blake is perfect

driving incongrous small pontiacs

over snow slicked prairie roads

and Michael is perfect

attentive

              listening

and the other Michael

poet Michael sir

is perfect reading

new play VKTMS

words unravelling mysteries

and the prairie road

is unravelling landscape mysteries

and it is all perfect

but I am not perfect

hungover glassy eyes staring

back at me in car mirror

demanding perfection.

My eyes say you shall be perfect

and you are not perfect.

 

I am staring out the window

in human pain and the clouds

swirl in great gray sheets

the prairies are forever

they are perfect

I watch the

prairies

unfold.