by Bobby Burton
Thinking about love through time (not a "lovey dovey" poem).
|Ask the boy about love
Watch his brain whirl, the cog spins
And a simply rehearsed answer begins.
Ask the teenager about love
Watch his brain dwell on sex and drink.
The inevitable reply: I dunno.
Urgh. I know what you think.
Ask the teacher about love.
Watch him answer slowly and suspiciously.
Constructing a politically correct reply.
Useless. Rubbish. Irrelevant.
He walks away. A tired sigh.
Ask the young couple about love
Watch them giggle and sway
Because they've got so much to say
Great, Hip-hip hooray.
Deaf. Blind. Idiotic. Unrealistic. Tossers.
Ask the husband about love
Hear him groan and moan
In that husbandish way.
And it quickly becomes safe to determine
The wife will have just as much to say.
Ask the pensioner about love
Watch him pause at a memory.
The grumpy git can actually smile
And he thinks a while
Before breaking into a predictably senile
Suspiciously-rehearsed sounding speech.
Ask me about love
and I'll tell you to ask someone else.