Super Dooper Anti-Love Poem!

I Love You Like She Died

Here ‘tis, she called from the corner store
Here's some of me, here’s some more.
What’s that you say, called the man from the car
What’s special today, sounds good so far.

The Dagger and the Heart smile before meeting
The man and the woman, a conjunction so fleeting
I’ve lived in times of flame. I lived in times of ice.
I know that you speak in words that don’t rhyme twice

I hear you were told it’s ok you can’t see landscapes in your mind.
But such rolling ridge, I seek, I find.
I bark and bare in a full moon’s transformation these teeth.
Running ragged, dorsal tall, jaw jagged, cruising the reef.

Worlds collide in the mass accelerator, our love.
Such experiments do bring new elements,
And yet often beat cascading catastrophe
Of matter anti-matter explosions upon the earthwork embattlements.

“Houston, we have a problem.
The Moon ate our Rocket.”

So simple really,
Such mind breaking complexity.
We are but death and birth in a single moment.
We two, romantically borrowed, broken,
Stolen, begged, seduced and beguiled,
Adam, Eve, the glory and the fall.

It’s a mixed bag of chewy treats.
I like the chocolate.
You like the nuts.
Aren’t we sweet?

Strange metaphors we pretend to share during,
Strange hours between being there,
In strange formations, like continents in syncline.

These words will fail to conjure the perfect wave reality.
You just don’t surf.
Neither did Charlie.

It’s a battle of monsters.
A battle Royale,
With funny Japanese guys dressed in rubber regalia.
There’s wires and pyrotechnics swinging round,
Badly dubbed speeches and volcanic breeches,
Words mouthed out of synch, lava bubbling up from Hell’s fake stink.

Like swollen parasites feeding and exploded...
Ah Love, so constant, so current, so conflicted, so loaded.
The falseness stacks up like poker chips wished for, gambled and lost.
Truth feeling itself up in a one-streetlight alley, alone and tossed.

Yes, it's bitterness, like the staining ink of nazi tattoos,
It’s solution! concentration! absolution!
It’s three wheels traded between axels voodoo.

Hamlet knew the answer before he asked.
It wasn’t him or his father or his enemy he tasked.
But Ophelia.

I love you like she died.