Groups of two are called a pair
and sometimes a couple, and in verse a couplet

Two is a beautiful number full of symmetry
And the wholeness of love

One by itself and plus one is the magical
connection of friendship

Addition makes for strange bedfellows and unwelcome crowds;
let’s just leave us alone together

Even is fair and fair is better said twice
for thrice would just be too much (overkill)

But two is not too of anything; it is
the warmth of company and the smile of one child

The most important things are twofold with us
and we must have one heart because we need another’s too

For balance, the dual strains but holds, sustains
yin pulls yang and tight embrace joins old and new

Division is eternally sad but easier to withstand if
there’s no remainder and you have someone else there

And finally two can multiply if they work hand in hand
to avoid the sting of desperate isolation

You can’t play paddy cake by yourself but it’s ok to try
You have two hands and along comes a partner

I met a girl named Alice Klar
She was the finest girl I saw
We made my day all bright and nice;
About the night I can’t speak at all!

Alice played with words all day
She’d find some Wort and write a play
To Lebenstraße she’d walked just twice
Even though I’d beg and though I’d plea

But I can’t recall for the life of me
Why that day Alice stopped for tea
Running along she’d chase the mice
Until they fell into the Spree

I’d always worried that her talcum hair
Would bring on suitors far more fair
But I never imagined that her vice
Would be an expat Fräuline eating rice

Amid the essence of food and the summer heat
When there in the Platz the two did meet
And a strong stark woman with heart of ice
Swept Alice Klar up off her feet

Since that day I’ve had no song in heart
Except for brats and hounds that bark
It’s now despite want of love and spice
Her memory fades into the dark

Still I have hope though you may scoff
That this man I am can surely boff
Another ribald maiden low in price
Then that old ***** Alice I can write off!

Smug like irises in the park is how I hope to be forgotten
Years from now when I am become only dust
Floating across the vast geography of sorrow

I want kittens to laugh at the sight of my visage
And films to churn what human desires are left
Though I have no concern for the afterthought

Still, it's impossible not to speculate in hopeful wonder
And let an imagination ponder the expanse of lapse
Farther than a second to the poles and back a spark

To light the world on fire and stare through rolling smoke
There is so much cruelty and love and frozen drinks
And I have no reason to believe we're sanctified in the least

Zebras do exist I insist because I've seen them though
And I've held these infant humans, felt them breathe
Wanting nothing save soteriological potential for to be

Now can't last I know and so tragedy ensues generically
For the last of us must grasp the verse and measure tight
Til humble prose unwraps the sin of self within

And magically perhaps our memories can take flight.

Fanwisdom gedachting a hearth-billow in my Herz
Ich hab' gedacht it fairer still to know
Than amongst dein Welt it predisposes is perplexed aloof
Extraños kann nicht go where I must go

And von und an die spinniest of Hund
In peril and with Angsty tougher Hands
Will not crepuscular desecration sofort ensue
Für nichts ist wichtiger nur ein Liebling mood

Versucht wir probs and totes adorbs
But still zu schieße tired and hasst to sein
Während wir sollen in the proper sense
Man oh yeah das Man sagt en vino absorb'd

Was wicked waste and After it schmeckt schleck
Über ist nicht was es ich verpassen now
Most mehr mit Menchen kommt wieso I ask?
Wenn wo I know it is so very untoward to cow

Kuh oder a coo cannot redeem from drain
Zeit and Mal scent rempeln us all or push
Klar we cannot stop the starkest Zug
Nor yodel holler up the lane for ****

And just wenn denkst du, dass eyes is mad
Know that for Worten the harshest Lebens macht
To get you just to see and versehe sum
Unwertens none of us will ever be ich gedacht

To rolling mounds of splendor here I gaze
Enthralled by that which on my heart now works
None can their eyes avert from her these days
Once starts the magic of her awesome twerks

We know that once it starts it must soon end
For that divine bounced ***** cannot last
And be it love or lust there is no friend
Who can resist round **** and jiggly ***

Still there are those fanatics who repress
And Carnot says all things which start must stop
When not much more can this art form express
Than she may still achieve losing her top

So long as eyes can see and mouths can drool
So long will twerking make men into fools

I dream that moonrise was mere hours ago
But dream I can’t because I’m now awake
And chemical assistance can’t bestow
Some true rest I need for ‘morrow to take

Sad sickness does to me bequeath a truth
In madness only can my heart survive
From echoes unto echoes now forsooth
Since long abandoned is the hope to thrive

For who can structure night’s soft siren call
In such a way that worries won't lie down?
And why do some of us lack fear of all
Save only sleep itself in darkness drowned?

But morning shall still rear its ugly head
Prepared or not, wide-eyed, or full of dread

My life is poetry and yours is prose
I can mean things nobody knows
All hidden away in my sweet sharp mind
A thousand guesses are guessed just fine

But they read you better all straight and clear
There's no scheming with rhyme all messy and queer
Though I'm simple enough to decipher and see
For minds majorly lazy nor dullards ain't free

Away, I sit where old red roses bloom
Alone, burning minutes this afternoon
My tears are stuck behind my eyes
This bitter beauty beneath grime disguised

Fumbling around while fair skin bakes
The city is quiet now, make no mistake
I think awhile and then go to wander on
These roses belong to all and so to none

One cool jet of water tries to pass for a fountain
A man in short shorts strides by unaccounted
Laughing at how I’m besotted with my own malaise
I must remind myself that a poet’s task is to praise

But it’s terribly hard to make shields without sarcasm
And loopy concerns will throw wise men toward spasms
It’s almost better to float through hydrocodone dreams wide awake
Than to sing futilely of sand and flights and smiles felt not faked

For this insult to suffering can’t end quickly enough
And the Suessical rhythm leaves much to rebuff
Despite luxurious lucidity the inconsequence falls on
Until next year’s parade and hope of less scorching suns

Because I’m not like the roses I’m not like the water
I’m not like the dude whose shorts won’t go farther
Maybe you’ll realize finally after thrice the **** crows
That my life is poetry but yours is, darling, still prose.