Eating the Experience: a Warning by Rebecca Edwards

Never lend your cock to a poet, dear
she'll snap it off and scrawl it dry
next time there's no pen handy.
Never lend your thoughts to a poet, darling
she'll scatter the leavings
she won't wash up.
Never let your nervous system near a poet
she'll hotwire it
or link it to the closest satellite
and hot-line God.
Never
never get close enough
to let her flop back on your whoopie-cushion heart.
She won't unlock the door of the coldroom.
She'll plaster your dearest agonies across the lunchhour mall
sawing her blood-and-bone violin, wheedling go on, take everything.
Never go back for the furniture.
Never look back into her bricked-up eyes.
Just hit the tarmac and keep driving or
believe me
you won't know yourself.