The Collector’s Lament #PostItNotePoetry


Kiss all the girls, Higgins.
Collect their desire
like fireflies in a jar
against the loneliness
they illuminate and distract
from the kiss you anticipate.
The angst you cannot enunciate.
The love on which you ruminate.
Go kiss the girls, Higgins
and in the room beneath
your bedroom, lock Eliza away.

With apologies to George Bernard Shaw and John Fowles.