Hook, Line & Sinker Poem by Mark Heathcote

There is one lover;
I've come to know all too well
Whose eyes are like two faucet dripping taps?

Whose tears drown all those about her?
Who pour themselves all about you over you?
That stems their flood as soon as they're gratified.

These casual weepers make no mistake
Want you to fall hook, line & sinker
Bleed and camphor,

But never find an everlasting cure.
They display themselves…
Like those drowning bellied-out worms.

Riving on the ground in the steamy summer rainfall
Till their all dried up, curled up in a ball.
There is one lover;
I've come to know all too well.

At one time she was my wishing well—dream!
But now like a leather satchel water carrier
I'm bleeding, poison-
Camphor's of my very own from every seam.