unless

Unless I look you dead in the eye

all my words are useless,

too used to the shifting red and blue

as passions heat and cool,

too used to the pretty birds in a row

to realize there’s a target

on every heads or tails, the pressing 

sentiment or hard knocks taught

obsolescence of all my tricks and treaties.

Unless you tell me straight to my face 

all the words are mysteries, 

too used to the preconditions and qualifiers

as the rhetoric goes from soft to stick

too used to the stirred crown and

the raptor’s shadow telling 

your truth, your strong wings

the tearing of the very air

the treatise on the ministry of the swift.

Unless I am shown I won’t know 

all my hopes are dashed,

too used to the ebb and flow of

powers vast and undisturbed,

too used to the blood inked

blanks and the startling marginalia 

to realize the story’s not for me,

the attendant of rot and ruin,

the conversation over long ago.