A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Friday, January 05, 2024

minding

You know,
reading through some  
or all the above (or from your
point, below, that is if so),
(views differ! Standpoints, too!), it

strikes me weird.

This: Specifically!: 

Plain,
punched-in-face literal
sincerity’s apparently
the weirdest art
“avant garde”

form in the world, now. Whelp! After
decades and generations drenched
incessantly in snark culture, why
would it NOT be strange? I’m not
complaining! Yet

it is a touch absurd: if

you really commit to
it in devoted aim, purest

sincerity tends to be read
as a gag. YUCK. Nobody
seems to be pulling that one!

So naturally it’s nobody’s accustomed
take. Throws so many off, which
I call a shame, but no harm. I get

laughed at!

It wasn’t meant funny!

THIS IS A BOON, BEAUTIFUL
OUTCOME, FOOL

For this.
It is a blessing
to amuse, or to provide
occasion for others’ amusement,
regardless of what I meant to do. “MEANT”
don’t mean WELL, where well-being’s wrapped
up in the good of others,
as
well.

Too-too! Too true! That’s
plain
as
day
and
night, not combined. It's
plain as the ass
on one's face, if

and when. You know.
It happens. And besides 
which: NOPE, that’s no
josh, typo fans! Day

is plain. Night

is also plain.

And the difference
between? Couldn’t be plainer, you’d
think
at least.
Right? Sure. Why

not? WHO CARES (I do!) Of 

course. 

I don't tend to mind,
much. Not 
too much

not my style really,

...

"minding"

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