Love Addict [poem]
He stood at the foot of the mountain
with his hands in his pockets
and his heart in his head.
Looking at the summit
He questioningly said:
I wonder if I am totally in love
with love instead
of being in love with you?
This is a problem,
she replied;
and immediately fell to the floor
and desperately sighed.
(For she was no more alive
in his blinkered eyes).
I’m addicted to love
were the words in his mind;
[As the flies buzzed around]
(not the marrying kind).
And the thought of cold turkey
turned his blood cold
and he saw that his dance
was part of a pattern
some centuries old.
© 2011, Alan Morrison
The Naked Troubadour 