Wolfe Silver

*

i don't really like
poetry in english
it always seems so trite
and trifling and thievish
with half the words germanic
and expressions latin intermixed
with dialects satanic
and spelling that i wish got nixed
but as you know, dear reader
we live in a society
where only works in english
get fame (or notoriety)

*

sometimes i,
catch a whiff,
of your cologne
(or deodorant?)
and for just
one, singular, moment,
i imagine it...
might be you

i remember what
it was like,
to curl up
next to you.

but then i
look over and
of course i
see someone else

it's never you;
because you might
as well be,
a million miles
away on a
different planet