
summer long gone makes me sing/
an old Eagles song.
I did send you a/
picture of my heart. That’s art./
But you don’t like it.
I was scum, full of/
deception, bad. So? Tell me/
something I don’t know.
OR
I was scum, full of /
deception. So? Now tell me/
something I don’t know.
Instead of trying to rhyme/
all of your poetic time,
why not increase your talent?/
Why don’t you finally relent?/
Why don’t you stop being so frantic/
and take some lines that could be iambic/
and make them not?
OR
Instead of trying to rhyme/
all of your poetic time,
why not increase your talent?/
Why don’t you finally relent?/
Why don’t you stop being so frantic/
and take some lines that could be iambic/
and make them not rhyme?
At all?
Not even a little bit!
Come on! Try it once
or twice.
It could be
really good for you.
While I keep reading such words,/
I still find them slightly absurd:/
You’ve not taken her away!/
Shouldn’t emotions expressed this way/
be acted upon, and not just heard?
Plus this couplet:
(I’m not meaning to be critical. /
It just seems to be such a riddle.)
I spied her tonight/
Hovering over a white/
And black frozen site.
You’ve anxiety/
o’er where to be New Year’s Eve?/
Pity. Don’t worry!