Fraud

As a poet I am a fraud.
You think I believe myself?
You think I believe my words?
You think I believe in love?
You think I believe in you?
Do you think I believe in God?
Nuh-uh, there ain’t no conviction in this diction.
As a poet I am a fraud!

Cheers

“I don’t have to do shit!”
It’s true and neither do you
Ahh, the beauty of being alive–
Human robot love man
Kisses rarely lie
Sometimes perfection imitates drama
so good, I could just die
and I could just die.

Haiku: Opposites Attract

Your eyes draw me in.
But why do you hate the sun.
I should walk away.

Gee Willakers

And so he makes life interesting
like so many other things can
Like the possibility of holding distance in her hand
or some other incomprehensible intangible thing
(Poetry and melted cheese actually go hand in hand)
The possibility of living in a dream
makes her continue to want and do things
that always seemed insensible like churning butter
or sewing denim into custom blue jeans
So should she want it easy or should she want amusing
She has known both but gee willakers
love is so confusing!