I'm on a roll today with this poetry crap.

I touch type each one and wrap
them in store-brand wrapping
paper, before slapping
on a label and shipping them off.

You see, I'm a habitual liar,
so I can tell you I wrote the entire
anthology for you and your deep blue
eyes - or brown, or green, or whatever. It's true
because it's literature, so it's from the heart;
it must be a part
of the writer themselves.

Though if they gave it away
so willingly,
it can't be a part they like much -
but they never say

The only thing that makes this stunning
is that it means nothing.