28 POEMS LATER

28 poems later

I am still angry.

28 poems later

I am still hungry.

28 poems later

I am still dreaming

and lusting

and following you around.

After 28 poems

I am the same boy

who seeks the same things

and has changed

not one iota

and will not,

not for twenty eight hundred poems

or till two thousand eighty.

No matter how long

no matter how many iterations

I may write

all I ever try to do

is woo you.