[L.E. Leone again contemplates love. Enjoy!]
ANOTHER RECIPE FOR LOVE
There’s a kind of wild
Flower grows along the highway
Here, Nebraska, makes me think
Of you. But then: so do weeds
And roadkill. Orange cones,
Construction, so beautiful it’s
Almost deafening. I know, I know:
You don’t say “I love you” to
Someone you’re falling in love
With. It’s like shooting yourself
In the foot. Worse: like hacking off
Your foot with a hacksaw, stringing
It up by the big toe from a tree, and then
Shooting it, nine times. What’s left, form
into a patty. I prefer peanut oil
Five minutes each side … all the while of course
Bleeding to death, I love you.
There’s a kind of wild
Flower grows along the highway
Here, Nebraska, makes me think
Of you. But then: so do weeds
And roadkill. Orange cones,
Construction, so beautiful it’s
Almost deafening. I know, I know:
You don’t say “I love you” to
Someone you’re falling in love
With. It’s like shooting yourself
In the foot. Worse: like hacking off
Your foot with a hacksaw, stringing
It up by the big toe from a tree, and then
Shooting it, nine times. What’s left, form
into a patty. I prefer peanut oil
Five minutes each side … all the while of course
Bleeding to death, I love you.
L.E. Leone
© 2010
© 2010