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Entropy Words
You ask what I think of your new acquisition;
and since we are now to be ‘friends’,
I’ll strive to the full to cement my position
with honesty. Dear—it depends.

It depends upon taste, which must not be disputed;
for which of us does understand
why some like their furnishings pallid and muted,
their cookery wholesome, but bland?

There isn’t a law that a face should have features,
it’s just that they generally do;
God couldn’t give colour to all of his creatures,
and only gave wit to a few.

I’m sure she has qualities, much underrated,
that compensate amply for this,
along with a charm that is so understated
it’s easy for people to miss.

It’s not that I think she is vapid and silly;
it’s not that her voice makes me wince;
but—chilli con carne without any chilli
is only a plateful of mince…

From Bitcherel by Eleanor Brown 

one of the coolest break-up (well, sort of) poems.

Maybe I’m in love or maybe I’m not in love or maybe I’ve tasted love before and haven’t brushed my teeth in a while.
From I Will Take My Pants Off While You Videotape the Moon by Gregory Sherl
Don’t think for a minute that your friends will telephone you every evening, as they ought to, in order to find out if this doesn’t happen to be the evening when you are deciding to commit suicide.
From The Fall by Albert Camus 
We don’t stop
to wonder if this lack of possession means
anything at all: it is not the body’s
assignment to weigh risk against
stability: the balance is beyond
us: that much is obvious.
From All the Body Has by Stephen Palermo
I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn’t impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.
By Anaïs Nin
I don’t know about you sir
but I wouldn’t mind a good fistfight about now
maybe a natural disaster to shake things up
I don’t know about you
but sometimes it all seems like squealing car tires
with no crash at the end
From Lets Move All Things (September) by Denver Butson
I want this world. I want to walk into
the ocean and feel it trying to drag me along
like I’m nothing but a broken bit of scratched glass,
and I want to resist it.
From For Desire by Kim Addonizio
I’m made of scraps, discarded drafts and slivers of broken glass; a mad man’s collage.
© Noha B.
If you hate me so much
don’t bother to give me
a name: do you need
one more slur
in your language?
From Witchgrass by Louise Glück
You think you’re ready for anything;
then it happens, and you’re not.
You’re really not.
From Only the Crossing Counts by C.D. Wright
Listen—
the mathematical equivalent of a woman’s beauty
is directly relational
to the amount or degree
other women hate her.
From The Kurosawa Champagne by Derrick Brown
When reading me, I want you to feel
as if I had ripped your skin off;
or gouged out your eyes with my fingers.
From Whom I Write For by Irving Layton
even God had the modesty,
after making this first failed world,
to take a rest.
From Lucifer’s Beginning Poetry Workshop by Philip Memmer
I do not write to improve your soul;
or to make you feel better, or more humane.
From Whom I Write For by Irving Layton
I am evil. I am the filth goddess Tlazolteotl.
I am the swallower of sins.
The lust goddess without guilt.
The delicious debauchery. You bring out
the primordial exquisiteness in me.
The nasty obsession in me.
From You Bring Out the Mexican in Me by Sandra Cisneros