Read This Poem!

— published in Hermaneutics Chaos

I’m supposed to write something
every day, he said. He said,
write something about your boyfriend.
He said make it aromantic
whatever that means. I’m not a 
therapist and I can’t tell a time
signature from a bathroom sign
but I do know this is a poem
It’s a poem because it has words
in it and it’s a poem because
it has line breaks. Write me 
a poem, he said. Give it line
breaks, he said. He said, I know
nothing because he always knows
more than I do. You can pretend
your punching bag is my face,
he said. He said, make every
goddamn punching bag in the 
gym curve to meet the shape of
my face. I said I need a new
work ethic because I write too
many motherfucking poems and
I can’t keep count
of who’s publishing what where.
You’re famous, he said,but I don’t
believe anyone who doesn’t use
gratuitous profanities.
Gratuitous means too many,
in case you were curious.
I know, he said. When you write,
he said, put a time signature
so you know the rhythm you’re
writing in. I know, I said.
I love him and I want to write
a poem about him, I said.
Then do it, he said. I love him,
I love him, I said. That’s
the whole poem, I said. 
I love him. That’s the only
poem that anyone on this earth
really ever needs.

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