IF LOVE IS THE ANSWER
I)
How cruel these seasons in hell
The bastard’s heart is hanging raw
In front of the drunkard’s church
And mine, wet near the whorehouse
Thinking erratically about your river-like skin
As if I have just invented a known puzzle
“If the heart is such a terrible thing
Then how come Don Juan had thousands
Yet none…?”
Things blue by nature is poetically addictive
Like a bleeding snowball, the seductive inferno
And I wonder
In this insanely romantic play
Why we choose to be a hypersensitive anti- hero
To know the cost of an ounce of love
II)
I search something in your body
Hills Rivers greens yellows, paddy field and mustard flowers
( I always use this metaphor for you)
Your body is a tough terrain
With the rocks of imagination
Fresh like a plastic flower
But your empire of sadness
Has been expanded from the tiny
Molecules of fear
From your being to all across the land that is mine.
Colonizing even the air,
Which once I used to breathe.
And like all the barbiturate souls
I’m too conflicted between natural selection
And the dammed hearts yearnings
To forget Camus’s most absurd question
You know this
Don’t you?
III)
If Love is the only answer (Sorry Mr. Allen)
To live and to die
I realize that only the whores know the cost of
An ounce of love, as they sell it for no return
And probably Don Juan was right
The heart is not that terrible as I think
It is just that I only have
Your body…
