Soft and Hard
If you have thought that I am soft, you think
Again. It’s true that I write verse, want love,
And want you. Weaknesses have their own stink,
Though, powerful as war and death. The dove
Of poetry flaps round the universe
Long after this or that massacre piles
Its bodies up or casts them down with terse
Gestures into ditches. The full-mouthed wiles
Of love send signals unendingly strong
As messages from fleeing satellites
Beyond the Jovian moons and last as long
As shockwaves from collapsing stars in nights
..So long ago that stronger humans than
…..I did not exist. Brute, I am a man.