Curse

I've cursed my hand
With a cursive wand:
Seated, I make my angled stand -

All quick kung fu swirls;
The balancing of tai chi curls -
I even praise the elegance of girls.

I am in deepest love with curvy letters:
A slave chained to my slinkier betters;
I join each tattered letter with inky fetters -

My loopy words hold hardened hands;
Odd tourists lined up in strange lands,
They mock the local who misunderstands.

I tease more pleasure from your white pages.
Listen to your birds fly up out of broken cages.