poem for no penny # 32
WORDS, 2004
A word from you
And butterflies
No longer tender
Punch me in the stomach
This clear
Pre-orgasmic
Plateau
Delivers more
Much more
Than gestures
Whichever erectile part
Of yours
Could provide
Is it my fault
Or that of butterflies
That your words
Can enact so much
Much more
Of us?
Talk to me, darling
Some more
Just talk
Talk
Talk
And punch my butterflies
A word from you
And butterflies
No longer tender
Punch me in the stomach
This clear
Pre-orgasmic
Plateau
Delivers more
Much more
Than gestures
Whichever erectile part
Of yours
Could provide
Is it my fault
Or that of butterflies
That your words
Can enact so much
Much more
Of us?
Talk to me, darling
Some more
Just talk
Talk
Talk
And punch my butterflies
Labels: poems for no penny
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comments
Liar. I bet you actually enjoyed it!
You're missing the point, again. Poetry isn't your game, is it?
Since when is poetry anything else than opium for the masses?
Then why destroy precisely its opium with an abrupt rooting into reality?
Don't ask me, ask Henry de Beyle.
I only know Henri Beyle, and he's not present, anyway. Or my psychic powers are very low.
Any good writer deserves the particula nobilitatis, but I suppose we're still talking about the same person here.
As for psychic powers, book an appointment at La Chartreuse de Parme. It's worth every penny, to speak so.
Only if it keeps me away from Le Rouge et le Noir.
Anything against Julien Sorel?
That's a shame, huh.
Sorel's not my kind of guy. I'm sure that's alright.
This post received a comment that I will not publish. A reader hiding behind anonymity has taken upon the habit of leaving provoking comments, in the past days. As much as I enjoy discussion, even criticism, even when not constructive, I've decided that I will not invest further time in amusing this person unless (s)he provides an online identity, becoming accountable.
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