Follow the Poet

Follow the poet to the bottom Their scrivened souls lead there Electric verbs and climatic curves Stoking notions of hoisted up hairs Winding down the patchy canyon To laurel beds on librettos grind Waterfall nerves and augury spurs Urging seshat to wield her rhymes Follow the poet to the bottom Thats where they’re lost and found Candles abuse and notepads recluse Glazing infinities pre-trial rounds Parading patterns of rickety roads Past old poems plagued in a frame Battled rudders and carving rubber Skidding below to avoid the reign Follow the poet to the bottom Below the soil and above the sun Atop sappy moss and clueless frost Molding truth’s molten hand numb The poet's work is never done The poet’s cause has not begun The bottom is the highest rung Follow the poet down the gun To bullets aimed at broken glass Aimed into perfections noose Aimed into perceptions shoes Follow the poet Follow you!