Thursday, July 25, 2013

V. 2, #119: July 25, 2013

Don't have much time, so let's get this shit done!
I've got places to do, and things to be.
As poems go, this won't be a great one,
so keep your expectations low. You see,

To be a poet's not that good a deal--
you have to sing, although you want to scream.
And if you slip, you're not "keeping it real,"
as punk kids say. But I won't break the stream

of words I've started. Keep the pressure high!
Put both fists in my temples now, and squeeze!
I'll pop this sonnet like a zit. Let fly
the pustulent parboiled prose, if you please!

So now I'm at the end. No need to strain.
Come back tomorrow, and we'll try again.

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