Apparently My Poetry Is a Pile of Bourgeois Crap

With a mag called POETRY, I spent time Hoping to find verses sublime and sage And for all I read, not two words that rhymed Just chopped up prose splayed all over the page. This left me just a little bit perplexed So I decided to investigate What I did find on Google left me vexed. It seems that rhyming is so out of date! Some academics, who think they could note A cultural conservative leaning By meter and rhyme: For whom I would vote An implicit Bourgeois type of meaning! To which I exclaimed out loud, “Shucky gee,” ‘Tis such a shameful verbal undressing. The poems that I write are not P.C.? Imagine the poor folks I’m oppressing! perhaps if I wrote a bunch of random words and arranged them bizarrely on the page and didn’t capitalize and ensured a total lack of rhyme or rhythm then, then some establishment of Persuns who make their living criticizing other people’s writings and maybe even write themselves would call it poetry? I thought the idea here was to communicate? How naive! Oh the stuffiness Self-important silliness Such puffiness Self-conscious no-frilliness Whoops! I hate when I do that. Such a chump! Breaking into rhyme like a “middlebrow.” Kneeling at the poetic shrine of Trump. Please, Mr. Self-important, show me how! My thoughts on this are as follows: Bollocks! This steaming pile of misinformation, Your verbal equal of Jackson Pollock, My heart’s best means of communication? I want to have the “right” feelings and thoughts And express them just like all you smarties. Sans emperor’s new clothes, I have been caught May I go to your frankfurter party? 3/11/16