Poem 20160214

i want to be a cartographer
when i grow up
although only a grown up ought to say
that he wants to chart every curve
every hill
every slope
of you

the map is not the territory they say
but i refuse to create an unusable guide
–something destined for a dusty
grave beneath a book
on some mouldering shelf–
without first hand knowledge
of the topography of your body

i suppose a grown up would not
say such a thing
–just so
then let me remain caught between
this youthful lust
and an old man’s cautious wisdom
and let us go exploring