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A Few Words About Love

Rudolph can’t talk about his past loves

without telling some lies.  Like others

you meet on screens and in novels who,

braggarts and pretenders, like children

use words and lies as sticks, strings and balls.


In the restaurants of our affairs, love is like

soup – hot and zesty when it’s fresh and bubbling,

tasteless and greasy when it’s a leftover,

placed somewhere on a back shelf.


Venus and Mars were two star-crossed lovers

who met in a hotel on the tip of the zodiac.

Where there’s a will, there’s a way, she whispered

as she slipped her fingers under his moons.

Arms around him, her hair on his shoulders as he

steered his Lambretta down the meteor belt into

memory lane.


Legends are built from stuff like that. Crossing

boundaries, defying fate. Whether you’re a star

or another hopeful lover, you play out the hopes

and aspirations of millions of romantic stargazers.


So put on a brave face Romeo, Rudolph, Greta—

don’t forget to brush your teeth before

performing a retake of that thirty-second-long kiss.

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© Johnmichael Simon



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