Don't give me poetry you vapid boy.
Did you think you could write
'a poem' and make all your
inconstancy constant, immaterial,
Forgotten? Are you immune to my
Fresh hurt and its memory?
What do you even want,
besides the obvious?
Do you know what train drives your brain,
rollercoaster man? You exhaust me.
Can you not see this path I barely tread?
Don't bring your ardour to the brush fence
of my life and poke it through.
Stop, and see me, and these egrets,
Spread on my wings, flying just a foot
Above that muck of your too florid speech;
No time for gliding but heart and wings
beating speedy time — can you even
imagine keeping up?
I can't stop for you, stop offending
my common sense, get you gone
past my girlish heart, don't make this
woman balance on your rusty knife life,
don't bleed me in viscous drops upon
your sensual flagrancy.
Fuck off back to your lassitude and your
loss, colourful similes are insufficient
to my need: first order your silo then
sell your corn elsewhere.