Variations on a theme by Kenneth Koch

1. Then eat the cold plums, if that will move her;
If you can give yourself to the one half sucked out in your hand, give yourself to her too,
Till she cry "Lover, plum-eating, self-giving lover,
I must have you
beside the white
chickens!"

2. Do not say, my sweet, I am unkind
That I upset your day,
And having on your breakfast dined
I have just this to say.

True, your icebox now I loot
Of plums you'd set aside;
As cold and sweet as any fruit
That yet by me was tried.

Yet this nocturnal snack is such
As makes me none the worse:
I could not love thee, dear, so much
Had you ne'er inspired verse.

3. I ate the plums
That you were saving
Their sweetness was
What I was craving
Burma-Shave

Comments

[ben w]

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