Poets are thinkersMaking an argument For the story they see,Or the world as it should be. Angry, an optimistDisappointed, believerDescribing her hopes, scenesAnd all of her dreams.
You like to be cleanBut you get dirty without apologyOr resentmentYou smell when you’ve been workingOf sweat and grease and trashAnd sticky icky gooAnd juice combined with brothNot in a recipe but on your skin aloneA smell that’s nowhere elseBut on youAnd on me when you touch meThe way I…