#poet-try

...nonsensical poem

Bronx in the bruxxels

Ope ope oroope

How to vote, among the Pope

Without a rope we're left to dangle

Get a gripe

Write a q-hwhip

And chase down a Coors lite

Tropes and trussles

And miles and mussels

And I swear

How are you even so,

So pretty!

One day a wheelbarrow

Or a blanket If you want

Dredge yourself in

A chocolate wine

And maybe after for sometime

You'll absolutely return

Love is a like bloom atop a cactus,

it draws you in with its stunning color and soft promises,

but as you reach for its loveliness it pricks you a thousand times,

your blood spilt upon the alter of your own folly.

But by the heavens is it worth it.

The Nopales call to me,

Are we not a prize to be envied?

Oh, how our sweetness will coat your tongue!

Come to me, Mi Amor, all it takes is a gentle touch.

I reach, hand trembling, towards their beauty,

flushed pink as the bloom before me,

promises and sweet whispers rustling in the wind,

who speaks, I do not know, is it I or the bloom

voices rising and falling, a chorus to rival any

Love is like a bloom atop a cactus,

it draws you in with promises of sweetness,

with songs lovelier than the sky at dawn

joy brighter than all the stars of the heavens

It pricks a thousand times over,

scarring the gentle flesh,

blood spilt, given freely, an offering to devotion