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“Love” Poems For Kathy Number Seven

TO ALL BIRDS (do not sing)

Do not begin to sing

here where the dark grit gravels the heart.

Better to hold

a vicious flame to your lips

than sing in this lost valley

of lost stars.

Take heart!

and wither, die! but do not sing.

Collar a button-necked lover

and fop your finger with a tinsel ring;

break wind over faith and laugh

till you meet your epitaph – but do not sing.

You are cut glass smashed. Heavens!

but do not sing. Rather chirp

from the gilt and glitter of triumphing cars;

drop from your flaccid nipples

a few fine stars. Do anything-

but do not sing. Take heart!

You have ample legs and breasts as numerous

as cans; thighs that would deck

a butcher’s shop with hams;

and, adding compliment to compliment,

fill all his vans and perhaps

the world’s less exclusive culinary pans.

So, take heart! take heart! but do not sing.

Or, if you must, take wing! take wing!

(from “”Love” Poems For Kathy / Green. Laced. Leaves”)

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Written by Jonathan Finch

Years Of MembershipStory MakerContent Author

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