Argument with Gala Dali

The freaks all say you’re just
What we must become;
Tall, enclosed within
The absolute perfection
Of never being wrong,
Lovely aristocrat
Who it’s rumored once won
An argument
By plucking a spider from
Its busy life and
Eating it, eight legs
Still wiggling, and you with
Utter aplomb.

I take issue with your tyranny
Over feeling, your inability
To visit the condition of
Humility, not even in
The face of someone else’s gift for
Pure creation. I guess even
Dali needs someone to hold
His hand, reward him for
Insanity, and there you are,
A spectre in your African beads,
Stolen icons from other
People’s lives and feelings,
Your own heart more polished
Than an amethyst.

You are the constant foil for
Melting clocks and clouds
That drift their edges into
Eternity, yet the breast you bare
For Dali’s brush doesn’t
Suckle, is not the bringer of joy
To anyone’s tender hunger. Still,
You think your life is made
By attachment to the sides
Of Dali’s ship to nowhere,
While the brilliance of his fame
Fades lighter and lighter. Gala:

I would rather have known the spider.


Happy 2009 to all the beautiful, bright-eyed spiders of our world, and to each and every one of us as we spin our webs and pursue our dreams. May all of yours be realized in the coming year. And may they intersect with mine.