The Pygmy Despair
The other John was in there first or you
Were in him first. (That’s what I suspect.) I
Was not the first and that’s the point. Your true
Loves, firstly, are for one who made you cry,
Who hurt you awfully, pepper sprayed your heart,
And then for someone I cannot compete
With, since he came before me, played his part
So sacrificially and with such sweet
Beneficence that, even if I matched
It, I would still be second place—or third.
Before I ever had a chance, they scratched
My hopes away. I can offer you word
Allurement, but you turn your back on it.
I think that maybe I’ll just have to quit.
Why did you write this sonnet
I think you know perfectly well why I wrote it.