DS Maolalaí
YOU LOVE ME, IT’S TERRIBLE
and I might as well
enter our bedroom
naked and carrying cherries –
at parties, trying wit
in front of you is just
the same. I've seen
it, heard recordings
from behind the wine-
piled doggerel.
there's something you see
in my excitement
at landing a joke
and following it;
like a dog being walked,
wanting more. and you
encourage me – it's terrible
to do that. you like it,
it's awful, it's bad;
because of you
everyone thinks
I'm obnoxious.
and you'd like it too
if I fed you cherries
with sheets covering you
like heather on hills – my body,
this clumsy dough of bones, and fruit
pinched with dirty fingers.