The poetry is pretty perhaps,
And some may appreciate the aesthetics
While being put off by the messiness
Of the content, preferring a tidy theme.
And maybe you could clean it up
A bit to avoid making the prigs uncomfortable.
Say something about flowers by the seaside,
For example, and let us forget people have sex.
And let’s forget about messy conflict
In relationships, too, while we’re at it.
Some people just want to get on with
A quiet life, not be confronted with
Confounding crises among the lovelorn.
Put a stitch in it, stuff a sock in it,
Do anything but speak of it.
Poetry is supposed to have pleasing
Rhyme and rhythm, after all,
And make us think of waterfalls,
Soaring hawks, and lovers who don’t
Fumble with zippers and buttons.
We prefer romance that is clean
And smooth, lacking rough edges,
Free of trauma and tribulation,
Free of interest and humanity.
We want the love that is printed
On a Hallmark card in February.
We want the love that we’ve dreamt
Of since we were able to dream.
And we were told the poets owe us
At least this much in reparations.
