Leveler Poetry Journal
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I pray you, mar no more trees by writing love-songs in their barks

 

The couple,     they stew deer into their sauce.

That said, loss     of love is our first concern.

She’s starting to shred     an arsenal onto the bar.

Rolled between thumb & forefinger & flicked.

But everything looks clean.

You think your paper shrapnel     can compete with Cupid’s arrow?

They are pedestrians,     they don’t own cars.

And yet, you can detect     the strain of dependence.

Which is he that killed the deer?

A material fool.

But this is an electronic statement,     a sustainable love-song.

The worst fault you have     is to be in love.

Wait,

you’re missing my point.     The venison was the girl in a past life.

Wait, she is a tree.     We’re talking about Daphne.

She needs

a medicine. You’re missing my point,    this love-song is rotting my roots.

Wait, I am the girl    and the sauce is savory.



Note: The title and collaged lines are taken from the melancholy Jaques in Shakespeare’s As You Like It.




Megan Ronan