To Move Me

I want fresh images for familiar ways:
the power of old patterns
the subtlety of avoidance
the decay of inattention.

I want a metaphor for immobility
an allusion to the ancestor
every psyche recognizes
a rhyme for entropy.

I want an epic on the difficulty of change
cast with monster mothers, devil fathers
illustrated with heavy woodcuts
of ghost babies with gills.

I want a haiku
the color of obsession
with the tinge of fear

I want a poem to move me through the rough,
essential narrative of disillusionment
closer to something winged
accompanied by harp—lyrical.