Muscle Poems

You are Romantic—in a Poetry sense.

I addressed the Science of Poetry,

And it’s only Love that it meant.

It was an experiment, I guess,

Until I trusted my Sixth Sense.

It takes me that long to understand

The Essence

Of Romance and its pleasantry lessons

Though the Science of Lust

Is not lost on us,

I sense it will bring us closer together.

 

The Book of Love I read for lunch.

Ecology was never anatomy.

It said Romance would bloom

Though money doesn’t grow on trees.

I guess words and their lost meanings

Are Love’s currency.

 

Mathematically, I wonder if I need collateral,

Because I’ve uncovered the lust of the animals,

That greet me at Hello

That beg and never say No

Who for a kiss would abide in bliss

It may be time to give up

And go for it.