A simple group discussion on the attributes of love;
Divergent interpretations, reminiscent of.
Six unique voices, each one different than the last.
‘Til a compromised comparison and love that’s unsurpassed.
Joscelyn Jordanna, Mississippi Magnolia Queen;
Her thoughts on love are fresh and pure as the debutante is clean.
She dreams of her Prince Charming, who’ll take her far away from here.
The Southern Belle who’ll kiss and tell her Disney love affair.
Rodney Campanella is a Brooklyn dad of three.
His idea of love as most his make a smutty magazine.
He rides below the radar on the grid of mass perversion.
Fixated lusts, pornography a sexual excursion.
Dolly Deprahoffin, Prisoner 91023,
Serving ten to life for all things, love, her love a felony.
For Dolly gave her heart to Mack who gave his heart to Nell,
So dear Dolly took an axe to Mack and sent his soul to Hell.
Amos Astorfrolix sees love all too differently.
Although it’s dark and most one-sided it burns bright for Natalie.
For years he stalked his one true love no lack of circumspection.
The object of her pain in turn the object of his affection.
Simone St. Valentine believed her name to be a clue.
A love awaiting change of sex to match his change in attitude.
But Simon found out the hard way that a medical solution,
Malpractice touched by prejudice caused gender mass confusion.
Talking-Toby Tutor was a bitter bitch from Maine.
The DJ searched for love desperately, though all she found was fame.
‘Til her midnight show, while on the phone with a mystery gentlemen caller.
She sealed her fate, that cold, blind date at the hands of a serial killer.
So there you have the stories each one different yet the same.
For each scary tale brought more than love, their love delivered pain.
I spend hours in isolation, lost and lonely in my hole.
Twisted roots spring up like loves sweet vice and crowd my tortured soul.
They scream inside my head at night, their bitter indignation.
Soars above my head, they chant and rage, like pliant love-vexed nation.
Perhaps the crimes I’m punished for are dreams ascent from time.
Not one ill act, stead victims crossed, mere figments of my mind.
Some might say they’re make believe or symptomatic of,
Psychotic thoughts or flesh and blood, it’s how we all spell love.