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Saturday, November 8, 2008

!!!Poetry is NOT dead!!!

the house
by fabulously feminist

you were educated
more than I
and liked to
remind me of this
every chance you could

over turtle lattes
and herbal tea
through the smoke
from my cigarettes
1:00 a.m conversations
systematically covered
music politics sex art literature

on literature you
were the self-proclaimed expert
[too bad you can not say the same for sex]
and jesus christ
how you loved symbolism
your favorite subject
next to me

in our brief time of delusion
defined in layman's terms as love
your obsession
compelled you
to reduce me
to that which ultimately
held your heart

in midst of our
blinded adoration
you stated that your
depiction of me
your ideal woman
would be a House
for house with a capital H
always symbolizes
woman with a capital W

i guess you did not realize
i am not woman with
a capital W
nor will i ever be
your ideal with a capital I
your innocent white house
on washington square

if i were a house
i would be burnt out
an abandoned
hollowed out
skeleton of self-destruction
where purity
was scorched black
so very long ago
by the flames of lust

it would take more than
a coat of paint
for me to meet your ideal
ideal with a capital I

it was upon your
reduction of me
that i realized
your love was merely
a symbol

a symbol of your intentions
to quell the embers of
my individuality
which smoldered in
defiance of your conformity

just as you implicitly wanted
to extinguish my cigarettes
during those
late night conversations
over turtle lattes
and herbal tea
i failed to mention
that i hate symbolism

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