Friday, September 4, 2009

Proposing to a Tree (Iffy Love Poem)

You hesitated, Tree!

Are you hormonally imbalanced
or am I merely lip-synching sanity?

In the garden, there is
this flowery whip of evil
and it is sort of hot

Okay, maybe you were pissed
by the extremist serpents
I wore most of last year

It is a legitimate fashion
some of the mags say

I hear you talking to a stranger
and have no clue to context:
"Might we separate them
anyway?"
I hear you say

and it sounds awfully domestic

as though you were talking
about trees in an orangery
or two lovers in ancient graves
next to one another

who might pose a threat

to some glamorous development deal

you are now embarked upon

And since when do you say Might
at the start of a question?
Do they add an English accent
to that yogurt I see you eating?

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