Poetry shouldn't be sipped with a fine wine
on a late Sunday afternoon,
It should be crunched;
Snorted off a ****** late on a Saturday morning,
Because we don't dine when we're content,
But when we desperately crave food.

Poetry should be grimy
like we feel,
Powerful, like we're not,
And stuffed to the brim with sustenance.
And love.
Love is perhaps the most important ingredient.
Love is the difference between someone
who likes pizza and has been to Italy,
And someone who read about them both once
on a takeaway menu, which happened to drop
in through the letterbox.

This isn't poetry. But she ******* is.