A Show Of The Words, Getting Undressed Before Us.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

this is my own way of
undressing letters that
fake emotions, and what you
hear for now is
the honest song of
nude syllables,
how they dance in bed
and fly in the middle of
our ceilings,
have become much beyond
our literary expectations,
wild and drunken, though wine
is swine, and win is winged,
and we come to terms with
what is real, how these words
must try to get back to their
dressings,
sort of dress rehearsals for
the next show
while we sit down there
with lights closed
watching what is next to happen.