Sunday, December 26, 2010

i have a problem

with people
writing
love poems.

if you are happy
there is no reason
to write poetry or
to write anything,

for that matter.

your love is
your own
subjective
obsession.

to me, it is
just words
on pages

and in
sharing it

you
ask me
politely,
to
wallow
in unshared
sentimentality.

to
watch you
masturbate
in a
public mess
of words
and feelings.

to
feel the
profundity
of poorly
conjured
hearts, kisses,
sunsets, spirits,
memories,
shootings stars,
and "days
long gone"--

but it never works,
so don't try.

--or at least
have the
good sense
to keep it private.
___

Leave it to
your sweetheart
instead.

I'm sure she'll
happily
swallow
every measure
of your
impotent, literary
cum-shot.





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