The Curator’s Love Poem
by Ken Sanes
I can’t help but wonder
as I admire your inner thigh,
how can love be worth it
when I alone will die?
How can it be worth it
when the world is crazy, still,
and I’m the one whose trapped,
I’m trapped in free will?
How can it be worth it
when your heart is hard and cold,
and the story of my passion,
will be a story never told?
The answer is it’s worth it
to completely lose my head
and express my love for timeless art
with a crate for a marriage bed.
Yes, My Dear, it’s worth it,
on sheets of Styrofoam,
laid out amid the rubble,
care of Athens, and of Rome;
all night amid the torsos,
bits of bodies, incomplete --
you may have lost your head, as well,
but you’ve still got lovely feet.