This Is Just to Say-Goodbye
(With apology to William Carlos Williams)
So. Willie.
You ate the plums that were in the icebox
and which I was saving for breakfast.
I swear. You poet boys are all alike.
You use your sweet words to open us sweet girls up, and
then you use more sweet words to say you’re sorry
when you want us to forgive you for
something not so sweet that you have done.
Well, I’m sorry too, Willie, but it’s not just about the words.
I know the plums were delicious.
That’s why I was saving them for breakfast.
Sweet words are nice, but some more plums would have been nicer.
WelI, no matter. I’m leaving you, Willie.
I’ve found another man.
He’s not silver tongued liked you, but his tongue is sweet, and firm, and wet, and warm -
and when kissed by his lips my plums are never cold,
but they are always sweet, and firm, and delicious,
as his tongue speaks to me without words.
He is now the poet of my body, and my body is his poetry.
Goodbye, Willie.
Please forgive me.
For you, a muse, no more.