Note to self

“Love is raw as freshly cut meat, mean as a beetle on the track of dung”
~ Jim Harrison  from Songs of Unreason

mention love but try not to add anything
think of a summer's day by all means
but stay well away from sonnets
waffle,  cliches, hackneyed phrases
prose painted purple

mention love but not in the same breath
as roses, sanguine and fresh as meat
that gesture can go either way
girls go astray, someone's bound to draw blood
or turn bitter

mention love as adversary, the unwelcome guest
the sudden, involuntary reflex
those terrible tears and heaving hearts
the way it tracks down the dung of our never-again
and up-cycles them for another pull on the petals

mention love where it's most expected
and mean it - in the midst of lust, childbirth
the thousand natural shocks we know by rote*
prayers to an invisible God and if there is a heaven's gate
admit to love

[*of course Prince Hamlet made an appearance here]