Fighting not to Answer My WhatsApp Messages

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

A dribble of slight WhatsApps has become

What we can manage.  That is quite enough

For you.  That trickle is the final sum

Of what’s between us.  Pairs of hands of bluff

Are what we play, with gaming cards against

The hairs of chest.  Communication fails.

What could have been an open love is fenced

With miles and miles of distancing with rails

Of rules forbidding warmth unless of course

There’s money on the gambling table.  Then

You’re interested, your motivation coarse.

This shows your view of love between two men.

  I offered much in dialogue but you

    Are glad with WhatsApps, just a very few.

© Phillip Whidden