I was standing on a rat-filled dumpster preaching to a group of orthodox cat burglars about the dire need for honesty in government. From the other side of the kitchen, you laughed and said something about a Spanish horse doing double back flips with a hoof-grab on the backside. Sometimes it feels like we’re speaking in different hues. Red and blue make confusion. Then, as I am about to lose faith in your ability to love, one of the burglars asks me if I would burn for my beliefs, and I get a wonderful idea. You and I should have a date night. We’ll set the forest on fire and drink cheap strawberry wine while God decides if he’s going to let us keep our apartment. Then, we’ll make love on that giant beige satellite dish out in front of your mother’s trailer park. When the light hits the metal just right, your n*****s look like Paris in the Springtime.
This is for a lit magazine editor who told me that all love poems are the same old silly ciches over and over. I told him that nothing about which poetry can be written has to be boring and cliche. After reading this, he said I was right, and said I should see a therapist. True story! :)~
My Review
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You and I should have a date night. We’ll set the forest on fire and drink cheap strawberry wine while God decides if he’s going to let us keep our apartment...
These are, to me, the definitive lines of the entire poem... maybe because they capture the essential rawness of what brings lovers together...
The editor is the one who needs the therapist, not you. This does not fall into the "boring" or "cliché" categories even slightly. You have written remarkably again.
No f**k no, You don't need to see a therapist that editor does. I read this to my fiance and she liked it. I read out to her one of my own poems and then read this and said "this is how one should write". i saw that look in her eyes which said "you(me) write fair enough" but this is the real stuff.For once, I envied you. After all you write lines like"I get a wonderful idea. You and I should have a date night. We’ll set the forest on fire and drink cheap strawberry wine while God decides if he’s going to let us keep our apartment." and then "When the light hits the metal just right, your n*****s look like Paris in the Springtime. " I am thrilled to say I read your work and atleast get inspired and overwhelmed to have read such lines..Never have I read such conception of working it back all right or images so viscerally beautiful, because it's raw, queer and original. love your poem..
You would make a therapist wealthy beyond his wildest dreams with all the overtime you'd have to pay him...though you and I both know that he'd give it all back once you started psycho analyzing him! It would be a fun show to watch!
I love your take on the love story, done in your usual surreal deconstructed urban imagery. I hate love poetry as a rule but I adored this!