Poem for a Mexican Jester in a European Court

To spend most of your time
being sorry is a luxury.
You must live with the monster
you have created.
Be Brave, Little One.
The night will bring you its Powerbar
of grief and longing--
read its tiny nutritional grid.
Your heart should be a sparrow
and not a tied dog.
O Little One.
If you are not doing
soft surgery on another human being,
maybe start now.
The ocean hisses
at all shores the same way.
Don't take it so personally.
Have you ever tried
parachuting in a wheelchair?
Just a thought.
It's scary that dream erections
are real things too,
that you wrap your arms
around the bountiful breasts
of a figment weeping for a figment.
A landscape is just a thing nude
and drunk on its own charms,
even if those charms are sadness
and possibly a fog of caring.