My boyfriend coughs up platitudes.
His frenetically managed public statements,
Insinuate much about moderation’s sensibilities,
As pertain to middle-aged matrons.
“Run,” urge my friends, “return to service.”

Elsewhere, the need for social change,
Sweetens days grown dusky with
“Read-to-me” stories meant for grownups.
Brief chapters were ne’er the province of women or tow heads.
“Quick,” advises my family, “take cover.”

At present, politics play heart chambers.
Philosophy’s okay for classrooms, but
Road-ready rhetoric surpasses quips on the mat.
Loving needs be managed by words gently spoken.
“Abruptly,” recommends my gut, “abandon this project.”