Poets cultivate carnivorous plants I wonder why they do Perhaps it is because they don't mind having their finger bitten once in a while Or maybe they enjoy seeing something eating something else Poets are funny sad creatures They linger on long lost dreams They soar above with their light plumb wings And tear your skin off with their sharp strong teeth Poets are sweet dangerous entities They fall in love with you The details of you And the weirdness of you They see you Your contours, your shadows And they make you eternal Poets take mental notes of your moves They see when a drop of sauce stains your shirt They watch when your tongue moisturizes your lips When you statter, when you cry, when you tell a lie They hover above your house And stare through the bedroom window while you sleep Poets cover you with the thick blanket of the night Poets sing you lullabies They deeply...