National Poetry Month: Day 6 - ALL THAT

This is the most sincere and abject love poem I could conceive of: One in which the lover reduces himself to the level of a mere commodity for the benefit of the object of his desire. The narrator places the beloved first in all the world, and squarely relegates his own self to the role of subservient. And yet by catering to the every desire or need of the object of his affection, the narrator has an ulterior motice: If he is in the center of her world, she can hardly get away from him, now can she?

In short, this poem described a mental illness that can only be described as romantic love. And it's called "All That."

I’m glad we decided to write our own vows

So I can pledge to you, my almost-wife:

I want to be your sewer line

’Cause of what it takes out of your life

I’ll be your ark of gopher wood

And save you from the Flood

I’ll be your healthy liver

And purify your blood

I want to be your Chapstick

And soften up your lips

You know what I want to be: All that, and a bag of chips

I want to be your escalator

Not some lousy stair

I want to be enlightenment

So you can be aware.

I want to be the mortgage

That lifts you out of the gutter

I want to be the margarine

You can’t believe isn’t butter

I want to be the hybrid car

That takes you down your road

You know what I want to be: All that, served a la mode.

I want to be the scrubbing bubbles

Cleaning up your tub

I want to be the Cheese Wiz

In your Philly cheesesteak sub

I want to be your Aquanet

Solidify your hair

I want to be the chloroplasts

That freshen up your air.

I want to crack perpetual motion

I would never stop.

You know what I want to be: Can’t buy it in a shop.

You know what I want to be: The penny has to drop.

You know what I want to be: The cream of that damn’ crop

You know what I want to be: All that, with a cherry on top.