Love, You Got Me Good

Those familiar with this blog may recall a poem I shared last year called "Late Poem." I was totally surprised by how much I loved it, given that I don't usually care much for poetry. It's careful and suggestive take on love, sex, and femininity still has a hold on me. I'm trying to figure out a way to get it printed somehow and saved for prosperity.

Anyway, with the dawn of 2012, I'm trying to stretch my intellectual muscles a little bit more. I begin a new job in a couple of days (very excited!), and I'm looking at it as an opportunity to change not just my 9-5 life, but the rest of it as well. For some reason, I've been idealizing my senior year of college as some kind of golden age for me being mentally engaged. I was writing theses (both analytical and creative), getting seriously into absurdist fiction (I wrote a little of it that I think still has my parents a little freaked out), and taking my chances with, yes, poetry.

In that spirit, I'm sharing the poem below, which I found via NPR last night (I know, I'm a cliche). It appeals to me for many of the same reasons as "Late Poem," but with a more dastardly attitude. I like it.

  Love, You Got Me Good

by Ross Gay

Honeybunny, for you, I've got a mouthful
of soot. Sweetpea, for you, I always smell
like blood. Everything that touches me, Lovemuffin,
turns to salt. When I think of you
I see fire. When I dream of you
I hear footsteps on bones. When I see you
I can feel the scythe's smooth handle
in my palm. Love, you got me
standing at attention.
Clutching my heart. Polishing guns.
Love, I got a piggy bank
painted like a flag. I got a flag
in the shape of a piggy bank. For you,
Sugarfoot, I've been dancing
the waterboard. You're under
my skin, Love. Don't know
what I'd do without you,
Love.