There are rules
of syntax
and you either ride them
like some bucking bronco
or pretend you’re
unfamiliar
with subject and predicate
and all the rest
because you can’t read
which is a tough sell
when you’re a writer

like there are
rules of respect
and dignity
when you’re with
a member of the opposite sex
that you adhere to
as admirably as a saint
or find particularly constraining
for the devil in you
because you can’t keep
your hands off her body
which is distressing
to your own sense of self
when you’re so much
in love with the woman

and there’s the rules
that involve
crossing a busy street –
look to the left,
then to the right,
then to the left again –
okay so those
you do follow,
because you’ve no wish
to be hit by a passing car
or a woman’s hand
or, worst of all, a semi-colon.