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, April 16, 2021

popular demand: one needlessly speculative meditation

fuck popular demand 
they better not fucken 
bring that shit. I'm not 
against a general accolade

now and then but 

demand? Fuck what 
do they think they outnumber 
us? No dice. Even all put together 
that will maths out to one (1)! Except 
in specifically perverted-to-purpose 
cases such as anything approaching 
to democracy, getting a better look
at it and moonwalking slowly away. 

Public demand? Christ! Yeah! Did
Christ Jesus bow to public demand? No. 
He came, he saw, he gave them 
the savior HE deemed fit - not 
the one they or in my case, we
"deserved."  
It was a matter of self-respect 
in a sense: innocence times 
omniscience is a heady trick 
to pull, but give him the nod. 

He did it. It won't be popular 
demand that calls that act 
back for a blockbuster encore
either, any time soon I hope.

DEMAND? 

What may be reasons to grant
a request as essentially, a favor, 

could never be reasons to accede
to demand.
No,
not even 
public. Now, okay 

per autonomy-call, private's 
a separate matter and fine. Subject 
to absolute tivity. But public? 

Come on. Do you think any amount 
of us-bustle can make us WANT to 
act like a knuckle-under wuss 
in the convergent-spotlight eyes
of the world on a public stage, even
as a phase we putatively go through
and indulge for the sakes of others?

Hell no! Bad sales pitch! Strike one
and no balls! 

Try again please. Please 
could be the key word 
there 

am tip. Not pro tip. 
Am. 

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