A Bunch of Teeny Love Poems

This poem
clearly loves you.

But this poem
loves you foggily too.

This poem love you
in meteorologically uncertain terms.

And this poem has no clue
how to even begin

to express
its overwheming love

to you, the target,
the absorbent

of all this love.
This poem

is greatly
embarrassed, abashed

and stands about
rather like a rhinosurrus

on the veldt,
thinking rhinocerous

thoughts of love
in its great big

stupid rhinocerus
heart, so dumb

it can't even spell
its own name

correctly! Because it
mulls its love for you

the way a river
mulls a rinocirrus.

Did you notice
the rhino spelled its name

wrong so many ways?
Well, if you did

then you are probably
not nearly in love

as deeply as this rhino.
You are clearly composed,

and no true love poem
should be clearly composed.

It's indecent. Embarrassing.
To see how unlike

a rhinaserus you really are,
when it comes to matters

of the heart and its deep
love for its own confusion.

You are probably a tour guide
of love. Probably you're perched

in that annoying tourist van
holding that microphone we hate

so much. Signed, Yours Truly,
a Heartsick Rinosirus.