This is not a good poem, but it is in trimeter. I wrote it mostly as a joke, in 15 minutes, in Greece, at the request of a friend who claims since to have used it to good advantage. Certainly it's more his charisma than the poem itself. If I find it more amusing than others, perhaps it's the adolescent in me I haven't yet exorcised.
Your heart's an iron city
where better men than I
know no taste of pity
and starved and homeless die.
Goddamn it girl!--you're pretty
cruel when you deny
me any taste of titty,
any lick of thigh.
Chris
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