Sonnet

you get more beautiful
& i get more ugly
there’s something about you
making me hungry
& beside the kitchen door
hanging on a little thing
you will find the keys
to open the car
& on the dash there’s a pen
& maybe a serviette
bring it on back to bed
& write me a sonnet
& i get more beautiful
& you get more ugly
squashing the hedgehog
being objective
at which what is an expert?
can you buy it with money?
is it subtle or obvious?
can it move mountains?
well sometimes i hear it
& sometimes i don’t

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