Glitter by Request
(a prose poem)
I wouldn’t lift you off the ground myself overhead to start; I am a lady who cares not to, but I would make glitter for you from the glass broken bottle bits the party smashed, a few clean sweeps of the ground for your feet. I grasp nothing in the clouds above and even less of intangible lessons, I don’t care to teach you, no one knows when the student is ready, and my greatest teachers have stepped back. Look there, I did not notice the police here just the cluster of constellations, or is it bottle bits? I like how your arch angel blue had the music ready for your party always, his name just for you to say, eye level, coconut for the soles, and the little matters, as in, I got your glitter.