I don’t want you, by the way, and it was
turning that conversational aside into a
subordinate clause - which I recognised
from my good education - that spurred me
to such anger, as if I needed this extra
information to close the slanted
wooden doors to the cellar of despair
and the dream to darken way down there.
Do you see what I did, by the way?
In the poker game of this affair
my metaphor so clearly beats the syntax
of your grammatical hand, and the rhyme
played then and any moment soon
brings our love to this discordant ruin.
Strong stuff!
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