Our poems make love

Coz we do not

 

Our poems walk the streets

Looking for a place to go

 

They meet up secretly

And check into seedy hotels

On the edge of town

And fuck it all away

Till there’s nothing left

No day and no night

 

Our poems are lovers

We are not

 

But our poems always

Tell it

Better than we could

Ever hope to

 

They always seem

To get it

Right

As we hang our heads

And sneer

 

Our poems are lovers

Or fuckers

But not strangers

 

Not like us

 

Our poems will last

Coz we will not

 

They have a right to

Exist and

Be happy

 

I guess we’re

Just not there yet