I hate love poems.
I hate wet blubbering fools.
I hate ting! – ting! silver bells.
I hate, I hate, I hate
Cute I love you’s;
Little, naked cupids
Bow-bent, waiting.
I hate love poems.
I hate sweet hot convulsions on paper.
I hate. Oh! Oh! Ahh…..!
Desire when
Two touch.
I hate love poems.
I hate silent bells
And broken arrows,
I hate boo – hoo –
Love poems dipped in
Hate – thick red
And dripping
Self defense.
But most of all,
I hate
The soft,
And final,
Kiss.
Nov 18, 2021
Nov 18, 2021 at 3:59 AM UTC
I hate love poems.
I hate wet blubbering fools.
I hate ting! – ting! silver bells.
I hate, I hate, I hate
Cute I love you’s;
Little, naked cupids
Bow-bent, waiting.
I hate love poems.
I hate sweet hot convulsions on paper.
I hate. Oh! Oh! Ahh…..!
Desire when
Two touch.
I hate love poems.
I hate silent bells
And broken arrows,
I hate boo – hoo –
Love poems dipped in
Hate – thick red
And dripping
Self defense.
But most of all,
I hate
The soft,
And final,
Kiss.
Denver 1979
The vulnerability of intimacy.
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