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Click hereLet us act on what we have, since we have not what we wish.
—John Henry Cardinal Newman
I was drinking too much
again
and thought of how we cannot touch
except through thoughts
painted in large and smeary and garish words
only bits more seemly than those
on your random toilet stall
but sometimes gut
is what you get, what’s correct
and this thing in me that could be love
or roses if it worked out right
has yet to crawl out of the sewer
of my insistent Id
Fuck. I know. But
even Romeo
in some kind of real life
would neither spit nor worry the envious moon
over Juliet’s fair sun
He’d just think about J's cunt
you should write more poems when you drink.
I'm sure J would approve.
And the juxtaposition of "Cardinal Newman," "Fuck," and "Cunt" made me laugh. Actually I thought the "Fuck" line is great, sort of the lynchpin of the poem and one that balances the erotic and nonerotic elements, I thought.