The fine art of desire requires
stitches in beautiful letters that’re
trimmed once and twice then five times again
before there is something called a Sonnet.
What is the point of talking about it?
Poetry so what. It’s actually weird.
I don’t want some of that crap. Me either.
Does it care that none hopes it appears?
--Consider what I ask myself a lot:
Poems are just a faster way to trouble,
and give enemies what they need to smear
me further. Why do I teach what demeans me?
C’est l’ars pour l’ars? Once again: Beauty
at whatever Cost can’t be Forsaken
This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.
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