LET PEOPLE POEMS

Caprice by Daniel Bailey

This is my love letter

I have one hundred Paganini’s flying out of my chest
I have one hundred dogs barking at my swelter I mean swagger
This worldwide web is not wide enough tonight
because I would like to fill it up with myself and
email myself to every faction of the e-community
and have myself exhumed like this exhumed from me

Believe me when I say that this is the only way
to remove the purple hearts from my shelf
to run chromatic mad like one hundred million
different purity levels of ocean water

I have counted all the saints tonight
There are well over a billion
I must collect more than a billion
or as many as I can fit in my mouth
and redirect my mouth path to the heart

I would like to touch the underbelly of every bastard
and trace the universe with their fingerprints
I love the blistered ones
This universe will swell like a feast it will In this love letter which is not
a suicide note I mostly wish to touch your crocus and make it crack
all mid-winter (which is over now) like one hundred praying radiators
I only wish to open my crocus within
I wish you had more faith in my ability
to play Caprice No. 24 in A Minor on my guitar
with a nail gun for a pick or
to play The Flight of the Bumblebee
with the mumble of my true belief
Instead I sing Oh You on the dashboard of my car
Instead play my heart like a deck of cards