by Larry Brody
NOTE FROM LB:
As a TV writer, I once worked for a studio head who absolutely forbade the verbal expression of positive emotion (although he loved people shouting “I hate you!”). As a poet, I have no such boundaries:
We Played The Game Of Who Loves Who More
We played the game of who loves who more.
I vowed eternal troth.
She countered with her complete devotion.
I parried with memories of a life together long ago.
She went right to total admiration
For not only my looks but my brain.
I told her she had my adoration, and
That I loved when we talked even more than
When we made love.
At this she paused, and smiled the smile
I loved more than my life.
“Prove it,” she said, and that smile so widened
I knew it would be better to lose.
Larry Brody is the head dood at TVWriter™. The poem above is from his second book of poetry, The Return of the Navajo Dog, which is available…well, nowhere but on this blog, actually, because it’s long out of print. LB is posting at least one poem a week here at TVWriter™ because, as the Navajo Dog herself once pointed out, “Art has to be free. If you create it for money, you lose your vision, and yourself.” She said it shorter, though, with just a snort.
