Romance Is a Problem Too Massive to Fix

Nobody’s saying
we ought to slow down.
All we’re saying is
we ought to turn and run.
Tears fall into spilled milk.
Redemption policy available upon request.
For a time I wished everything would die

in a state of joy.
Circumstances changed and now I’m naked
and trussed on the warm hood of an Impala
heading home to a wall.
Romance is a corporate entity too big to fail.
I was dreaming about cloud design
and lost my love again.

At the back of the crowd
someone was saying,
“Let’s dress the emperor.”
Once the facts had been established
the records were destroyed.
We desired a desire
that would stick to the ribs.

Ruthless in El Paso
wraps her legs around my skull
so hard I can see the abyss of heaven
but not quite reach it.
Sometimes the heart needs
to be told to shut up
and run.

God says I must forego my last quarter
of a century
and thanks me for being
part of the team.
As a loyal follower,
I must say I was disappointed
when his final tweet

consisted of 140 interrobangs.
Nobody’s saying
this existence is a road kill restaurant
in the parking lot of a mobius strip mall
but the primal forces of the universe
are not well pleased
when I ask for extra ketchup.


* * *
William Merricle lives in Lima, Ohio. His poetry has been published in PuddingSlipstream, ZeroCity, and many other publications. His chapbooks include Heimlich The Donut [Pudding House], Grace, You Let the Screen Door Slam [Crisis Chronicles] and, most recently, Chaos Theory [NightBallet].

Romance Is a Problem Too Massive to Fix © 2015 by William Merricle, used with permission