Crazy Stuff

The issue isn't what you said to me,
But what the people with us may have heard:
The accusations, specious and absurd,
About our checkered dating history
And how affection, inescapably
No longer here, which might have been inferred
From your pronouncements, has been dimmed and blurred
And sectioned, sanctioned, and sent off to sea.

I'll always love you, and you'll always moan
I didn't love you hopelessly enough,
I wasn't sweet enough, too sweet, too rough,
Too jealous, not afraid to be alone,
Afraid to be alone, as hard as stone,
Too soft, or some such other crazy stuff.

She Offered Me a Kiss

She offered me a kiss, which I turned down,
Having affection coming out my ears;
Unkind rejection used up all my tears.
She offered me the wisdom of a clown,
Which only made me shake my head and frown.
She told me she was filled with nameless fears,
Which I was offered, and a dozen beers,
Made by a brewer of debased renown.

In all, her offers were detestable,
And though she kept at it, and tried all night
To woo me, I did not give up the fight.
She offered me a rare comestible
That smelled bad, and was indigestible,
And I riposted as I thought was right.

What I Say Now

Impress me, if you will, with balls of flame
Spread from your fingers like long grains of salt
Or undercooked damp lumps of barley malt,
Falling like stars, but tenderly, and tame
As kittens, loose-limbed, lovely, lost, and lame,
And when you bring the light show to a halt
Without destruction, gentle to a fault,
I say let there be neither tears nor blame.

There will be devastation, I know that,
But only spiritual, not raging fires
Rising from joists like kindling, up church spires
And on to heaven, catching up your hat
On currents of hot air, as if a chat
Were the deep form to which all art aspires.

Bid for Consent

She wore a bow tie, with those lacy frills
That made it look bizarre and feminine,
Distinguished by a squarish amber pin.
The overall effect was dentists' drills
As modified by psilocybin pills
With just a touch of home-cut heroin.
This matched the truly foul mood I was in,
As we engaged in a fair test of wills.

She wanted my consent for something awful;
I hesitated, so she dressed like that
(Including the most terrifying hat),
Insisting it was pleasant, good, and lawful.
I offered her a shirt much like a waffle,
So she would understand what I was at.

Daniel's Sonnet

Oh yes, I have spent my fair share of days
Safe in the lions' den — no danger there
For someone with such lovely auburn hair,
The kind of friendly smile the angels praise,
And eyebrows even a Greek god would raise
Faced with a face like this, so very fair
That many passers-by break down and stare,
Lost in a sweet and otherworldly haze.

The lions will forget me in the Fall,
And by a fresh imperial decree
They may no longer sink their teeth in me
Unless I see the writing on the wall
And can't read it, or anything at all —
Nebuchadnezzar writes illegibly.

Cautious State

There are some things that make me urinate
As fast as lightning, and as loud as thunder,
Some other things that always make me wonder
About the meaning of this cautious state
In which I can't even regurgitate —
A star sign that I must have fallen under,
A truly great and ludicrous, sad blunder,
Chasing foolishly to catch at fate.

But fate is never caught; it catches you,
It makes a living blithely smacking heads,
Knocking us over as we leave our beds,
And sometimes, while we think we're whisking through
So gaily, all we ever really do
Is prove we're less restrained than quadrupeds.