It Had To Be You

i grow, to become an adult, if i must.
i too do not care to be alone.
unprecedented, it is not, i know.

i do too that looking at the glass so objectively.
i am aware of the
sprouts wielding its tendrils up and up and up inch by inch
year after year. for, sometime ago the sad image turned
and metamorphosed.

every strike at the hand of the clock i mature.

yesterday, dear, i learned to use a watch.
the bald teacher talked of
it in school. but i used it for a purpose, yesterday.
and calculators
do not leave my side these days.

so like an imprinted duckling i walk forth
by killing that spirit god of doodling
i grow, to become an adult, if i must.

it is ironic. times when i was to study i did not,
imbibing turnspikes
after another giving wet hedges a light brush to
sprinkle the dust of water
upon myself, and while avoiding the tall snake lying on the road,
made love to life.

with weed up my throat i gurgle. it is just
as i thought
a greeting card persona non grata there
on the wooden floor
of the basketball court lies my childhood