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Vesuvius



Creativity is born of desperation.
I am made of affection,
curiosity, and wanderlust.

I am defined by what I did,
but I am shaped as much
by what I didn't do.

Who says I can't guesses.
Who says I shouldn't lies.

You have no choice
but to choose and choose and choose.

Existence demands
an explanation or an excuse,
or seems to.

Can we embrace the composite
while disdaining the components?

Who mutilates beauty?
The one with a highly-developed aesthetic sense
or the one without one?

I think you'll find
I said more than I said.

Passion is heat:  let us speak
of the passion-death
of the universe.

Animals want, humans wish.

I am the first snow to fall
on the ruins of Vesuvius.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.