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It seems that rhyming is so out of date!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
Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016
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