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, October 30, 2020

Exuberance par excellence

I am the exuberor, and I warn you. 
Don't bring, cite or invoke the exuberance 
if you can't exube. I will zero in on you 
like a crosshairs convergence in a scope 
you hadn't considered at any scale, and 

I will exube you. Just
so you know next time 
what it means 

to be exubed. Really, really
exubed, and maybe then

you won't throw terms around 
like you can't
understand with exuberance
sufficient to bring it home. 

To make us believe, like
the bystanders we are, trying
to dial in on your vibe. Which you claim 
is exuberance? Hey,

try ebullience next time.

It's bubbly, it doesn't have to be
much more. Long as it bubbles,
you can lay and stake a believable, 
bubbly claim to ebullience. I suggest, 

though, 

leave the exuberance to people who know how 
to exube. And just what it means 


in fact,
to be the exubulator.
Wait, fuck

sorry, not the "exubulator!" 

I got out of hand on that. 
A function of my exuberance, though 
I think 

we can me cut off a chunk of slack
in fact. Fancy what shall we do with it
after? Hey, revel maybe. Exult.

Don't exube. 

Not unless you know how to know 
how to.
It wouldn't be advisable, and so 

I couldn't advise you. Some things 
can't be born or taught, just 

done right,

or not. 

I warned you. 

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