I ordered this, this silicone rose,
and I suppose I chose the rose
for promising a compromise.
*
They told me love’s a deadweight.
They told me love's a lead weight.
They told me love’s a bed, mate.
Close your eyes and bowdlerise,
free from vulnerability and keen, mean eyes…
*
I suppose I chose the rose
as a nod to nymphs about the woods
who at the lightest petal touch cry out and sigh, “it's good, it's good...”
But I shall never be a nymph,
nor even can I hear the breezing leaves and babbling brook.
*
My beau drills hard.
A Frenchman laughs between my thighs
(and I would sooner hear a laugh than that infernal buzzing noise).
*
I suppose I chose the rose
To join in on The Joke of Life.