Viola

For, sometimes at least, love
is vanity. Irises tarred with tears
& the slow death of admiration.
Other times, it is worse, for it is so true it dies itself to live;
is hidden when at ripest,
"Sure, my noble lord,
If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
As it is spoke, she never will admit me..."
and all the while apples
of desire fall
softly
in the Duke's orchard.
Crows fly down and feast
as they ferment.
The odor of love is sometimes a difficult thing.



dry as a desert is my tongue in my throat
dry as a riverbed that can't float a boat
parched as a camel, gasping like a fish
Another diet coke is my only wish.

I reached rather slowly ,then grabbed for a can-
Gadzooks! They're both empty, I don't understand
I need it for life, for brutal survival
but Rachel drank it up. SHe's my bitterest rival.
Mr. Pibb would not sate her, nor Sprite fill her up
so she stole my heart's love, she drain'd my last cup!