Experiment in Blank Verse

[arrow_is_da_man]

(Iambic Pentameter, unrhymed)

I loathe the words of tender hearted youth
Who claim that ritual is key to love:
When she appears you coil your adder tongue
and let the loving sick infect her palm.
For me, it's better just to throw it out,
like garbage in a trailer dweller's yard,
believing it is only how it seems
rather than coating it with sticky dreams
and fancy things you give in ides of night;
it's best to be denied without a cloud
of flatus lust to set the ailing mood