In celebration of bad poetry interval...
it hurts
but it's better this way
you were always annoying me
day and night you were
always in my face
everyone laughed because I kept you around
and you know what?
I've had enough
ENOUGH
I will be rid of you as surely
as some kid drools over
Dead or Alive Extreme Beach Boobieball
as lines of pain radiate from my
clenched twisted eyelids
and my breathing sloooooooows
feels like someone's driving a knife into me
but no! I shall persevere!
you spoony... spoony...
keep the pressure up
the agony pervades
as I
squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze
and suddenly it is over
a shot of white and red
where's the kleenex
They eat out
In restaurants we argue
over which of us will pay for your funeral
though the real question is
whether or not I will make you immortal.
At the moment only I
can do it and so
I raise the magic fork
over the plate of beef fried rice
and plunge it into your heart.
There is a faint pop, a sizzle
and through your own split head
you rise up glowing;
the ceiling opens
a voice sings Love Is A Many
Splendoured Thing
you hang suspended above the city
in blue tights and a red cape,
your eyes flashing in unison.
The other diners regard you
some with awe, some only with boredom;
they cannot decide if you are a new weapon
or only a new advertisement.
As for me, I continue eating;
I liked you better the way you were,
but you were always ambitious.