Super Sonnet Love

Love is like a butterfly. It flaps about and then it dies.

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2. Birthday Love

You call me on my birthday just to say

That everything is great and you are well,

That you and dad have gone your separate ways

For now, at least — until you meet in Hell.

You tell me that you'd love to come and stay,

To meet my son and tell him you're his gran.

You love the photographs I sent last May

And Samuel looks quite the little man.

But every word you say is slurred and slow,

Twelve years too late and watered down with wine.

You're tired now, it's time for you to go.

You've had your pills and everything is fine.

I think about the words that you just said.

If I don't call an ambulance, you're dead.

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