My poems are not a call for freedom.
I am free.
King or Queen,
not a monarch but a mattress.
I am free.
Coke or Pepsi.
I am free.
Foreign or domestic.
I am free.
Honda or Hyundai.
I am free.
Man or woman,
Boy or girl.
I am free.
Gay or straight.
Black or white.
It’s the law.
I am free.
Caught in a net,
the holes provide the illusion.
I am free.
I am free to ask questions.
But not the right questions.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Is too late too soon?
The right questions must wait
until everything has fallen apart.
Then answers will be obvious,
but not easy.