Not For Me
What possessed you?
Did you think I’d be impressed if you grovelled?
That I wouldn’t wonder where your dignity lay?
Surely, lower that the soles of my shoes
which you readily moistened with your lips.
What chance respect now?
Now that you’ve declared an unreserved submission
that was never once desired,
least of all by me?
What hope is there for you, for me, for all the world?
And end to it!
Arise and speak with me
of needs and wants, hopes and dreams,
of far away lands and desperate sorrows,
of grief, of love, of sparrows.
And let us look each other in the eye and know
that we can trust our truths
and hold each other’s dreams
and keep our shoes dry,
lest in turn, we own each other.
©Paul Vincent Cannon