It's poetry day
I am told
That’s insane
That’s pretty bold
We have mountains to climb
or minor hills anyway
who does poetry help
whose bills does it pay?
Words and words
not even so many of them
these poets I tell you
quite definitely lame
Who wants to know
what’s inside their mind
these poets be delusional
and I am being kind
they dig deep
they look long
they reproduce on paper
their feverish songs
They appear quite normal
and if you met one
you’d not know
they wrote poetry for fun!
(because it doesn’t pay any bills, remember?)
But every once in a while
they air out their kook
-say something ridiculous
with a faraway look
You know then to run
for poetry’s alright
poets on the other hand,
best avoided on sight.
