Poetry is a whore

Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it.

Live it, live it, live it.

Do it, do it, do it.

Poetry is a whore.

I’ve said it.

She licks it and I like it.

She loves to be naked.

Let her be.

Burn that dress.

She doesn’t like it.

Burn it.

Burn it.

Burn it.

She’s a whore

And she likes it.

Let her be the whore.

You be man enough to

Be the poet.

© Ernesto González, 2012