Saturday, December 8, 2012

I SIT HERE

I sit here
clicking through their poems,
searching for a poem
I can sink my teeth into.
Again, I come up hungry.
Their mostly gone now,
those meat eating poets
with meat on their poems.
But, I'll keep searching.
Now and then,
a poet will come along
to quench the hunger deep inside
these old hungry poetic bones.
I need poetry hungry for revenge.
Poetry that smells like it needs a bath.
Poetry weaned on bad manners,
bad coffee and temptations.
A celebration of madness.
Give it up for bad manners,
warm beer and the possibility
of returning to life
with some understanding
of what life is all about.

Please turn off the lights.






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