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I pray to genetics to save me from those who ask to be thanked for staring uselessly at the sun.
The bouquet that comforts a corpse or props up a hospital bunk will be the flower I cultivate in my garden.
The sensual scratch of polyester lab coats a Pavlovian response to your futile aching landscapes,
I hold your delicate creatures in midnight assays,
And never confess to their beauty.

nonnymonster wrote:I pray to genetics to save me from those who ask to be thanked for staring uselessly at the sun.
I reject the warm blossom of productless meaning. I do not bring bouquets to the suffering.
The sensual scratch of polyester lab coats a Pavlovian response to your futile aching landscapes,
I hold your delicate creatures in midnight assays,
And never confess to their beauty.

.. and so.. in stating you never confess to their beauty.. it seems.. you do. Oh, and the landscapes are "aching".. and the productless meaning is as a "warm blossom".. and you've at least thought of bringing such bouquets to the suffering.. and still your Pavlovian response registers a sensuality.. and again, these creatures you mention are delicate, you noticed. So.. if I like this poem.. it's because you are a liar (!)

This monster is not lying. If I say, "I am such a jerk," does that mean I'm not a jerk, simply because I recognize my jerkness? The first line of the poem does this. I would only advise to replace this "I do not bring bouquets to the suffering" (it's a bit explanatory) with modification to tell the reader that the blossoms in the preceding sentence are a gift of this sort, such as placing them on a hospital room window sill or some such.

Thanks for the critique. I edited that sentence a bit and will probably try again later.
Actually, I liked Violet's comment. I wouldn't have thought to put it that way and it sounds so much more fun than "the author is discussing feelings of ambiguity about the topic blah blah".