love at first sight
Had in times unbelieving been
of the greatest play, a tragedy.
Shakespeare dreamed it up
to keep his heart warm for hope,
a dying Marriage, his own.
Is what I thought.
I, rationally bound, though woman kind am, did not understand.
Denied, then found.
Yet this thing so versed in Jacobethan rhyme
Could never end itself well.
Star crossed things to dead ends, and all.
No, a thing of realness incarnate could never in the real world live.
Disbelievers and their logical love in the real world have bandaged up, taped up, cut, broke and sealed up stuff.
You people live a manufactured love.
You read on walls of logic things of love lessons.
Go! Make all the calculations.
You mathematicians of reasoned affection will douse extracts of skin into beakers,
Testing of strength of character, mind fortune,
Tilt and review the changing process.
Her: thinness, fatness, hair shine: his salary projections.
Proof is the scientist’s mantle, you see.
He wears it, as a love doctor, around his neck: his tie of truth.
Real love laughs at you all.
Trying to create this the thing in a jar.
See, what you, you scienteering, lust engineering, perfection creation making, short-sighted, jealous afflicted, marketeering scam twitch eyes motherfuckers do not see is
you got the wrong drug.
You were all given the placebo in the double—blind pharmaceutical trial.
You are all eating pills of sugar, as you spin your contraceptive wheels
But hold onto your prayer beads from some mountaineering market;
Buy another love potion
I have found in times of great unbridled impassioned madness,
that you all, and your science, is wrong.
But where rare the real love of irrational make unbelieving is found,
sudden and without reason—there is only ever one.
Losing a person on a large planet that tilts is easy enough to do.
So when you lose one tiny human who was the thing, what does that mean?
Nothing will feel quite as certain to you again.
While it is real and rare, why any of you crazy love obsessives want it so much, I will never understand.
Did you all fall asleep at the end of his play?
Here’s the kicker: they all die.
Yes it’s a tragedy, you know.
Shakespeare did try to warn me about this kind of affliction
But I flunked school during Act V Scene 3,
Missed the punch line,
And that’s why I am here today