You First

If I wrote a poem down
On this brown page I bought
From the university bookstore,
Could it live as more
Than the voice in my head that
Sounds like Frost and Frank O'Hara?

As a lover I am less
Than I think I think,
Having loved so much so much
And given so little back to myself.
Even
As I write these concatenated verses
I can't help but feel I've
Left something out.

Did I mention I'm right-handed?
I like baseball though I can't
throw worth a goddam or hit
or run too well really.
I like pondering too,
And yoga at night by myself.

Is that enough for us to start a love?
Oh that's right,
I suppose it proper to hear about
You first.