Today my flag was a Fleur de leis

mike swanberg

The girl im seeing doesn’t believe in Columbus day,
And has already refused to celebrate it with me
But rather than seeming understanding to her plea
that Columbus was parasitical at best
I know if I find the time I will try and dress like him

Then walk around all afternoon discovering different things
and pretending that I don’t celebrate Her Day either
Because I tell her without the Nina or the St.Mary
we wouldn’t be here, and she shakes her head
so that the knowledge of the Americus’s and Ericson’s,
all those early explorers of great esteem
pours disastrously into my lap.

But what she doesn’t know is I mean her and I,
Here in my small shared room,
not this country, this continent.

I mean my hand on her hip, and when the light dims
Her breast, hangs forever on Ferdinand and Isabella
on the poisoned fish, the planted flag
the sand that was kissed, and the spice

Life is about taste I tell her as I slide off
her clothes As I claim her naked body
In my name

Life is about taste my love,
and how far we will sail for ours