Nothing Like a Solid Poem Thrills

It’s good to have a job; it pays the bills–
Yet nothing like a solid poem thrills.

What do I mean by solid? Drop a deuce?
For so a poem that’s unrhymed and loose

Of meter feels to me. Why sing at all
If it’s just random beats or caterwaul

Of shallow gut-wrench nonsense with a line
Break every now and then to form define?

Our words evaporate like transient vapor–
If written down, they ought at least to taper.

 

 

 

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