Some people might say
I write too many poems
about poems; what might
be called "meta-verse."
Well, skip those then,
fool! Poems are for skipping
and skimming lightly, a traipse
one makes through words
that stay - perchance
to pause and plow
a furrow, if the rich, wet loam
is agreeable. Found a good one?
Sink into it at sixty to
two hundred kilometers per hour,
right up to the hood ornament!
Back out and come back in.
Read it aloud. Poems
really do need this
intake and measured
spread of breath, like
angel wings working
overtime in a whisky
-stacked warehouse. Don't
get a reference? Leave
it! Knock it like a rock
and plow on, or keep
wandering in whatever
meadow you find smells
well, or beautifully, or
even vividly horrid. Poems
are for that,
even
if they are a bit too much
about themselves, sometimes.
It's a hazard of the form. Skip it,
fool. No one asked you
not to.
Did they? I mean, who knows
maybe some do
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