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all that crap
i stumble upon the poems
from long ago and from yesterday
and all the glory of desire for you
the divine nuance and the brutal defects
i have found the worse poems ever
but i know they are messages to you
that were meant to be and i hope
you still find the passion in slop
that really isn’t worthy of a blank page
i hope the coded messages in the newspaper
makes up the misses on the poetry
sheish, i want you here
not because of the rain
or the fact that i am on my third ubu
but because you are you
and all of that is all that makes
good and bad poetry
a reason to exist
and the reason for me to still see you
as the most beautiful girl
