Ballad For the Parnassian
I the lonely poet whose words
spill out onto the page
like blood spatter at a crime scene
will knock at your door
books in my eyes hoping
you'll want to critique them
while others partake of tradition
I will bring cheese
summer sausage, and wine
quote Auden, Ginsberg, and Dove
'til the aurora strums the horizon
this rhythm inspires the wren
that melody signaling the dawn
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