I’m tired of windmill flowers that waft listlessly over barren ground.
I want daffodils that dance down rivers pulsating with light.
Hands that bloom uncontrollably from trees and mountain ranges.
Tongues that explode from windows and doors unhinged.
These pinwheel blossoms do nothing but distract me
from vibrancy’s inner cord. Let me pull this string
and reattach myself to this makeshift world
without pressed edges, pleats that order
the random swell of life. I’m tired
of windmill flowers.
Give me tiger lilies instead.
By Joshua Lewis