if i had poetry for you
it would be pushed against you
driving you into the wall
there would be a violence in the language
finding its wellspring in the tone
if i had poetry for you
i’d leave you alone with it
and its sharp teeth in a room
where you might have your throat torn out
and you would fall into failing
if i had poetry for you
i would never lay hands on you
but you would feel the weight pushing down
a depressed button
lamb dressed as mutton
that young poem would be a wolf
and the violence in the language
would breach the gulf