You Should

Call me more often.
Tell the Whitman of watercolor
your favorite restaurant.
Tell the Picasso of poetry
how you like your eggs.
Tell me lies, lovey, because
they make me feel like a feline.
Pledge allegiance to the pedophile
who steals everything you touch.
When you sweat, I sweat.
My pen, the pendulum,
rocks only for you. 
This bond is thicker than
a Shakespearean plotline,
so come over on Thursday.
Refuse to leave me alone.
I have excuses to eat
your words and it will rain
music notes.
Huge, pink music notes
made of muck and cement.
When I sweat, you sweat.
I’ll tease your velvet scalp
and tickle your clean feet
when you remind me of me.
Promise to remind me of me.
If my craft soothes no fires,
if my verses bust no levies,
if I die an American Death
of a Salesman,
do not leave your room.
Call me. I’m in a meeting but
my phone is on vibrate
for you.

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1 comments

Anonymous

Thu Mar 11 2010 18:29

nice!

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