A WHITE DUDE PLEADS WITH HIS POLITICALLY CORRECT LOVER

Your political opinions mean nothing to me—

Opinions on matters of the state abstractly

Blow in the abstract breeze.

They matter not—except that they might make you hate me

And then they do matter—terrifically.

I love you, purely, like I love the taste of cheese,

But I love you alone, in a manner that excludes all,

Which is the definition of love—in two the one becomes free.

People are nothing until they fall.

Nothing you hate or love makes you my enemy,

Unless your politics pictures me, in some way, guilty.

Our love is for the moment; it cannot endure—

We are food for each other, we delightfully dine

In pure taste—our mutual love is pure,

And since you don’t want children, I’ll agree

To forget the future, and add to food the brilliant wine.

The past, as well, we can leave aside.

My ancestors slaughtered, owned slaves and lied,

But I was born innocently, like you,

When two moments kissed, for a moment or two.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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