She is my second favorite poet on this list But she doesn't need to be reminded of this She doesn't give a **** Cause she is here for her Not for my approval As she hits the high note Of the last bars that she wrote With a little sneer she disappears Holding that disdain in her veins From years of abuse
I compliment her but My blandishments fall on angry ears She fakes gratitude Not understanding the sincerity Of my compliments Assuming I am sexualizing her That I am just another perv
I understand I thank her and walk away Never letting even an inkling show Through my face But I am disappointed
She could have been my ally Not my lover or fling but friend Dismisses me so offhandedly and angrily But I let it slide There is always other nights There are always other venues Under softer lights Where writers delight In what others write And they are not so angry But she is still my second favorite