|Let's find a playing surface we both can claim Love
upon us. The heart, hidden, is always disadvantaged.
Her hair when we met was sprayed
silver. We went home together.
The story from there's best left to asterisks, the minor planets.
Love as knotted as a schoolboy's
crush, he dreams of Crete, the
silken threads in his hand, the skein, poontang to labyrinth.
In our minor heaven, It's you
Babe, in the firmament
dressed as a chambermaid, the derelict heart sealed.
Retired from Beastly Sin &
clean. The mixed metaphors of his life
failed him. Daylight's what they'll beat out of you. Or payoff.
He's decided he needs a brass
band, not love.
The last of the scientific poets. Harnessing a great wind.
Less abashed before love than
music, I damn Shakespeare
who made them one. Omnivorous Spouse-Breaker, Old Bedswerver!
Let me borrow your blue pencil,
I don't care to quote
my good lord Herrick, "For pity, sir.." that bee's currency.
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