Looking through the microscope
at Gaudian fortresses girding
Manhattans of cotton wale,
wafflet squares of tree blood distillate,

comes as easily to you as closing one eye
Cocking your head to one side
And dropping 3 tea sets
and two silverware sets
from an oversized and ragged sleeve.

As easily as coining
eternitudes of song like sayings,

As easily as strumming out
ancient tangos turned
musical theatre,
heartbreaking and comical
heavenly and frail.

Though you carry perhaps
every book, film or song
you ever heard in your head,
along with nearly every
person you meet’s birthday
and know more on the subject of most things
than most people,

you are still the simplest,
sweetest, most accepting,
rain clown marsh wiggle
this will o’ the wisp will ever call home.

And the most overwhelmingly
admirable quality you have,
at least by this fiery wisps’ standards,
is your ability to listen to anyone
and accept them,
and make them feel a little
bit better about themselves.