capital crimes

capital crimes

what if I lusted after time

instead of money—

or love—

what if

I am happier being nobody, skipping

into paradise while peeling

an orange—

what if

I settled for the slow, ambling

cello I would later

weep over   —what if

I wept—

what if I suffered no sophisitcates,

preferring instead the company

of plants —seedlings

weeds,   tiny   insignificant

populations—  what if I

mostly loved a turtle, as shy

as myself       —what if I

undid the pawl of parent

preachings, letting fly

the mechanism of my life—

what if all I owned was less

than sparse, from days roused

in solitude, within a humble terrain

of contentment—

what if all I ever risked was

everything  —for a life

who would be my judge—&
who would be my executioner?