exotic/heaven

I. Exotic


Why do you use archaic language?
Modern poets don't do that.
Who do you think you are?!---John Donne?
And your names are exotic.


Don't you get it?
I am not a modern poet!
I am not like you,
and you are not like me.
Incomprehensible,
mutually,
and conclusively.


Go stuff your exotic:
Jan and Jana, Lenka and Miro,
They are all my friends.
There's a big, big world outside the walls of your cruel empire!


II. Heaven


Don't give me the soft, mushy, overly sweet fruit of summer!
No!  I don't want peaches or pears with their rotten juices.
A crisp apple is quite enough,
tart or sour with just enough moist.


In heaven I will eat lemons.