It is a make-believe love,
In which he pretends
That pretending to love
Is the actual essence
Of loving itself.
And while it may look
Clumsy and stupid to us,
We should bear in mind
That he himself
Is the main audience
With which he is concerned.
As long as he
Can remain convinced
That he is loving,
He cares very little
What falsehood we all see in it.
But do not be surprised
If he should lash out
Against any charge of wrong,
For fear that the criticism
May overwhelm his
Hectic plate-spinning routine—
That the facade
Might come crashing down,
If even for a painful, self-aware minute—
His plates on the floor.
And he remains—
As even the greatest plate-spinners—
Ever vulnerable to those incisive questions,
Voiced by surprisingly few:
Just what is the actual point
Of spinning plates in the first place?
And what of real value
Is actually gained from it?
And the best I can figure
Is that it’s just for show,
This make-believe love,
For which he will fight you
If it comes to it.
