Get Out Of My Landscape Poem by Richard Blanch
Get Out Of My Landscape
Why are the hills like your forehead?
And I see your eyes in the stream
And a long curving line
Of hills in your spine
And the light of your hair is the gleam
Of the sun in the grasses of the meadow-
Get out of my landscape
I can’t think – I am full
Of your shape
All the views are the same – repeat- dull.
A lobotomy
To relieve
This monotony-
Let me BREATHE
2004
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5/11/2024 12:26:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Such a love poem. But is it love?