the Nostril Monster
and even though
I’ve a huge snout,
sharp, jagged teeth,
a mountainous girth,
and stink of
swamp water,
I still want,
no, need
love.
What I love most
are beautiful,
delicate flowers
with soft wisps
of fragrance,
and delicate petals
exuding all things
perfect and divine.
The problem is
because I am
the Nostril Monster,
my claws are rough,
and my grip
is crude,
my movement,
elephantine.
Mine is a
cruel fate:
everything I
try to love
I end up
unintentionally
destroying.
I am
The Nostril Monster
and I need love.
What a marvelous, beautiful poem, Mosk!
ReplyDeleteThank you. It is actually a thesis statement of sorts.
ReplyDeleteI love this poem. Seriously, mad crazy love over this.
ReplyDeletePsst. I think we all feel this way. Like we mess it up somehow.
I would put this "poem" in the top 3 most honest things I ever wrote. Thanks.
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