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

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