The controlled anger seasoned with humor of the civilized person
intimidates the Caliban stuttering his desire
when decisions need to be made. Where
is the roof and the plane to be made?
It makes the poet vastly uncomfortable that children are everything,
but breeding is the highest joke, funnier than farting
and death; a childless marriage of nothing but sex is like a holiday
in a small resort away from everything, reading
Hermann Hesse between palms and coffee.
Truly William Blake and his Songs of Innocence are more amazing
than Elvis; love enhances sexual attraction—
the really beautiful don’t need love, and this may be
a cynical way to define love, but it’s true;
you have that annoying little brother syndrome;
I want to slap you.