By Ashlee

When in a rage for being criticized about your poetry just write a poem about it.

“Written Advice”

He tells me my writing is ideal

But it’s too sweet

Making him sick like after eating

His mother’s rhubarb crisp

That we can smell now

Warming the house

Tart and deep red

While my mouth waters

And the buttery aroma

Makes my teeth tingle

 

He tells me I need to be specific

With concrete examples

Rock solid stairs

Like the steps and sidewalk

In front of the house

That he can walk on and trust

That it will hold his weight

Even when there’s a corner crumbling

Or a crack and only there

Can a sweet flower blossom

 

Companion Song: The Elected’s “I’ll Be Your Man”

You’ve got to learn to lie to make everyone happy
and you’re going to have to cry to make it on your own

but I can’t see you now, put down your hands
no, I can’t feel you now, give me your hands
cause I’ve been waiting as long as I can stand
so if you ever need someone, I’ll be your man
yeah, I’ll be your man
yeah, I’ll be your man

you don’t have to go and die
to show people you’re hurting
and you’re going to have to try
put out the fire if you’re burning

but I can’t see you now, put down your hands
no, I can’t feel you now, give me your hands
cause we’ve been waiting as long as we can stand
and should you ever need anyone, I’ll be your man
yeah, I’ll be your man
yeah, I’ll be your man

now, I read through your poetry
yeah, every last one
felt like I ate too much butter
and drank too much rum
cause it made me feel sweet inside
warm, proud, and young
I’ve been sick inside
and angry at everyone

and I wish I could touch you
if I wasn’t miles away
we could talk it all out
in your clean white place

now I’ve done all the waiting I think I can stand
and I want you to know
yeah, I want you to know
I want you to know
I think you’ve found your man
yeah, I’ll be your man
yeah, you’ve found your man
come home to him

Advertisements