Clichés
I hate how clichés
create expectations.
I need a rose-colored mirror,
not glasses.
When I say I love you,
I don't say it in rain wearing white.
I don't throw rocks at your window.
Our desire isn't burning.
It's a frog corpse zapped alive
with electrodes:
the occasional vacation,
another night of intermittent
gasping. There are moments when
I know you from Adam.
Often I'm so oblivious
you could perform surgery
and you would.
If only time told us anything.
My nerves aren't steel,
they're threadbare.
Realm of Contradiction
A cybernetic Amish man
lights his torch underwater.
There is only love, no pain.
-- Cletus Crow is a poet. His full-length collection, Phallic Symbols, is available from Pig Roast Publishing.