Monday, August 31, 2009

...away from
the piercing, penetrating gaze
she, reticent
recedes into
her own private world
shuts up the doors
closes the windows
she feels safe
I see the poet dying
the lines created with effort
the cacophony of words
the mirage of meters
the deliberate rhymes attempt to sell
To be a part of THE CANON
I see the poet being sucked
being suffocated
in the quicksands of
"poetic sensibility"