Third World
by
Robert H. Dirr Jr.
You have roots near the cracking foundations of proverbial ivory towers
And circumnavigate the affluent and wealthy with the ease of a dancer,
While mine are buried in quicksand among the ruins of the dead and the
Affronted and the accused and the caged souls that were born of war.
We delicately exist upon separate earths but have comparable wounds.
Having returned from barren grasslands of passion, I am aware of your
Whispered thoughts of complex simplicity entering my buried mind,
For they reek of unspoken erotic prerogatives and sexual metaphors.
Your intangible trespasses upon a dormant ego are a welcomed intrusion
And I have constructed a globe whereupon we can survive without fear.
Our unique lives share lights and crowds and melodies and tears and art,
But our united existence overshadows other differences, very much like the
Distorted branches of the antique maple that shelters your welcoming home.
The needs we possess for one another shall distill to become the intoxicating
Spirit called togetherness, and we shall dwell in our Third World forever.
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