Dear John,
I absolutely will not join your glass menagerie—
Of furry, striped, speckled
List of friends to whom you write
When you devise your schedule trying to avoid
Space for yourself to breath—that you might
Fill the emptiness and void.
I’m not one of the figurines you’ll collect.
Yours would be a cage for me.
I think I’d like to move on
Than have to confront
More attempts at calls
Like a prostitute
Whose buyer won’t give a real reply.
There is no substitute
For your lack of brawn
And intermittent yawn.
I would not be able to look you in the eye.
There are reasons why I
Fear I could not speak my mind.
I would have to keep hearing you moan and cry
About each flaw
About why you cannot achieve a hard goal.
You need a specialist, and this you already know.
Lee Burke González
Buoys (Piles), 2017
Oil pastel on paper