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she does not tolerate paradox well, a poem by Barry Harris

she does not tolerate paradox well

nor him for that matter
nor her cat
who likes to lie across her shoulders
while a chocolate labrador
sits at her feet in stark obedience

ambiguity sits uneasy with her
she demands her facts black
and white unstirred with no nonsense
loyal lapdogs work best
in her mind:  low turnover

no need to retrain even her thoughts
or plow new earth of any kind
she was done with all that a long time ago
when some festered hurt pestered her
long after the initial pain had passed
now she grows thistles with the hope
that some Sweet William or Jack-in-the-Pulpit
might unexpectedly poke through

that is why he stays to discover
if he is the true wildflower she sees
and not the mass of contradictions
he knows himself to be    

                         --by Barry Harris                                                                                

Bio: Barry Harris is editor of the Tipton Poetry Journal and has published one poetry collection, Something At The Center. Barry lives in Brownsburg, Indiana and is retired from Eli Lilly and Company. A graduate of Ball State University with a major in English, Barry was founding editor of Tipton Poetry Journal, which has been published in print and online versions since 2004. In 2009, he helped found Brick Street Poetry, Inc., a non-profit organization which now publishes Tipton Poetry Journal, hosts Poetry on Brick Street, and sponsors poetry-related events. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Saint Ann’s Review, Grey Sparrow Journal, Silk Road Review, Kentucky Review, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Silver Birch Press, Boston Literary Magazine, Night Train, Hiss Quarterly, Cherry Blossom Review, Flying Island, Lily, The Centrifugal Eye, Redheaded Stepchild, Flutter, Wheelhouse Magazine, Houston Literary Review, Snow Monkey and Writers’ Bloc; and in these anthologies: MOTIF 3: Work, Twin Muses: Art and Poetry and From the Edge of the Prairie.