and it can get you laid
and you’ll make an obscene fortune
and your sainthood will be secured
and fame will embrace you
and your genitals will become larger
and your doubts will silence
and everything will be perfect
and if you believe all that
then keep sending entry fees
to online poetry contests
and keep that thesaurus within reach
and don’t stop your production
of densely packed blocks of
literary meringue imagery
but don’t show me
because I hate poetry
and the pedigreed gatekeepers
standing at the door
keeping all of us
on the outside looking in
for the Poets
who hide behind technique
to remain invisible and untouched
do not covet their position
in their hallowed halls of hooey
resolutely refuse to join them
pick up your pen
and spill your blood
scatter the pieces of your heart
as though you were emptying
your junk drawer
and see what’s there
some you’ll pass over
some you won’t even recognize
and some will be worth noting
but be selective
there’s a reason why it was
all stuffed away
just bring me your jewels
and the treasures you buried
and tell me why
you’ve held them in secret
all these years
make a mirror of yourself
for I want to know you
but I can’t make sense of you
without a sense of me
no
poetry cannot save the world
no
it may not even change the world
but keep writing
because digging deep inside
and bringing out
the hidden gold
of our shared failings
and secret transcendent dreams
is what keeps me
reading
and writing
and hopeful
for a better world.
Buy my book, it makes an excellent Mother's Day gift!