A Sip Of Insipid
P Patti Masterman
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A sip of insipid love poetry-
That's all you get to drink
For hours of endless days and nights
You've barely time to think.
A bushel, a barrel of halfhearted verse:
More than we meant to know
Can't gargle our poor brains out with soap
Is there nothing can stop the flow?
My words might be insipid too;
It's true there's way too many
But I'll stifle my loving if you will too-
There's none would give us a penny.
I'll never more search for a heart of gold
Or even of silver, or tin:
In fact, if I die quite all alone
I'll think it the best kind of end.
Bu şiiri puanla
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