Image result for angry abstract painting

You once loved with all your being

A guy who loved you,

And all that guy was seeing

Was everything that guy knew,

And what he was seeing was you.

When we really love, the love tries to go through

The other person, to a purity beyond—

But that purity is only narcissus above the pond.

You have to be looked at by another, the flesh adored,

And if the physical is no longer a bond,

Even the poet gets bored.

Fake spirituality ruins everything.

Wisdom makes love a flop.

You forgot to relax. You forgot to sing.

Love continues, though you try to make it stop.

Are you angry?  Are you fat?

I’m a gentleman—I would never describe you like that.


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