For Susie’s prompt at Real Toads – why do you write poetry. This is also for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub.

When I was 11 T.S. Eliot took my poetic cherry.
I bled buckets of poetry –
I became a nymphopoetrymaniac.
I had to have it.
I didn’t care if it was sweet
or if it was my hands against the wall
being slammed from behind.
I howled I purred I sizzled I was intense.
I like the hands on the wall kind best.
I consider the sweet stunning evocative bs –
to be masturbation.
I like my poetry hot and wild
full of passion.
I write poetry because of rain snow moon grass
because of the taste of words on my tongue.
because of wind birds death life
because of I need it.
because I love it.
because you read.

Hosukai – Great Wave off Kanagawa

%d bloggers like this: