ain't a lot o' poetry goin' on.
most jussa steady flossin' jones.
pardon my density
i still don't understand
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this poetry jones thing
the afterthought of the art world
the "oh, by the way ...
you can play with words ...
if you really want to."
after everything has already
been said with tone and color
you can piddle around with
the words ... the leftovers.
poetry ... gesundheit.
it's OK if you don't mind
carving your own pedestal.
tag your own self
with a fancy handle like
ProphetPoetSeerPimp.
or sign onto any one of a zillion
mutual admiration societies
depending on the temperature
of your flavor of the month.
poetry's just a flower, honey.
you sure can't eat it,
and it ain't where the growth comes from.
~
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