I truly like a million things–
books, poems, piano jazz, diamond rings;
but of all the likes, I like
you best. Too bad you left
me here alone.
I like the trees and ocean floor;
there’s something to be said
of liking more than just the surf,
the waves and such. A striped shrimp
just joined our lunch.
True, I’m fond of dogs and sloths;
for that I often pay a cost;
Bernese mountain pups and Siamese cats
top cliched likes of this and thats–
along with you, of course.
Cloud formations inspire lines
about the heavens and fireflies
And Galapagos isles create a verse
about some other favorite firsts
Like the penguins who tarry there
among the tortoise and sea hare.
Yes, those animals and ocean things,
clouds, Keats, hounds, concert strings…
all hard to think about just now
(or pen rhyming schemes or stanzaic forms)
since you’ve abandoned me, you cow.
In fact, the diction remains pedestrian
since emotion inebriates the poet’s pen;
(he warned writing now might prove a fuss)
Alas, all liked things have packed their stuff
and climbed aboard the outbound bus