Could it be that ugly worlds disjointed
With weird solar flights and star collisions
Ramping snarls and horrid visions
Should prevail over sweet love anointed?
My wife was an impassioned devotee.
I liked the stuff with a tailored diction
Some heavy hauling and some mystery
And no loving snork and dork addiction.
She preferred a subtle feminism
In creatures multiarmed and verminous
And abhorred my greaseball masculism.
Argumentation reached a terminus
Upon, agreeably, a joint lecture
That a loveless art is sheer conjecture.

– Jack Orwant