Let's create perfection
like the fence we put up
those cold days
in that one December,
like its broken boards
and bulging veins
and crooked tops.
We said we didn't care--
that there was charm
in all its 'we maybe
could've done better'.
That fence was the start
and end to our boundary building --
a different kind of modern art.
Let's create perfection
on shifting sands
and slanting elevation.
We'll lay all our foundations
in the clay-like soil
we break our back against,
but that's perfection for you,
that's fighting with all our might,
striving for something.
You say we'll create perfection
like the fence we put up
those first few days
in that cold December,
like the icicles on the edges of our legs,
and the aching fingerprints
we left on every screw
and every aged board.
I think that's all the perfection I know--
the 'we try our hardest' and still nothing goes.
