If we´re talking about love
Then I have to tell you
Dear readers, I´m not sure where I´m headed.
I´ve gotten lost before.
I´ve woke up stone drunk
Face down in the floor.
Last afternoon, the house is hot.
I started, I jumped up.
Everyone hates a bore.
Everybody hates a drunk.

This may be a lit invention
Professors muddled in their intent
To try to rope in followers
To float their malcontent.
As for this reader,
I´m already spent.

Late afternoon, the house is hot.
I started, I jumped up.
Everyone hates a sad professor.
I hate where I wound up.

Dear readers, my apologies.
I´m drifting in and out of sleep.
Long silence presents the tragedies
Of love. Note the age. Get afraid.
The surface hazy with attendant thoughts.
A lazy eye metaphor on the rocks.

Late afternoon, the house is hot.
I started, I jumped up.
Everyone hates a bore.
Everybody hates a drunk.
Everyone hates a sad professor.
I hate where I wound up.
I hate where I wound up.