I miss poetry

I miss poetry 
In the way I miss cheez-its with salsa and melted cheese
Something so gross its pleasurable like the 
Feeling of the Queen’s crop upon my ass as I beg for more. 
I miss the way it moves in my mouth, 
Poems of Poe, Frost, Whitman, Shakespeare, Cummings, and Angelo
Setting of a mental orgasm that leaves me quaking and trembling unable 
To form any word other than fuck because my mind has been blow
To the fifth circle of Niverna, the way a good joint and 
Vinyls of AC/DC leave you boneless during long Indian Summers 
As you think, life can not get better than this. 

I miss poetry
I miss it in the way I miss church
A place of comfort, a home, a place were words were 
Unjudged and scripted as they flew off the tongue to 
Hang in the air swaying back and forth like a hung man 
Condemned to always stay there. 

I miss poetry
In the way I miss my ex friends
Recalling the better times that we had only to be torn 
Apart by stupidity and hormones. 

But most of all, 
I miss poetry because its something I can’t
Ever let go off.