Nice Images
Your poems have
nice images.
I can't use them.
They don't drive trucks,
weld, or pour cement.
I can't wear them
like boots in the snow.
They won't keep my head
dry in the rain.
I like your images
but
don't try to pull a
fast one.
A slight of pen
quicker than the eye.
A twist of tongue
dredged from dead scrolls.
Your images are good
but I'm tired.
If they were on TV
I'd turn the channel.
I don't think of your
poems during the World Series.
You will become famous,
appointed to a marble history,
far removed from the slamming
screen doors,
the runny noses of crying
babies.
Elitist pedagogues
will force feed the young
on you.
America will hate you
to your effete marrow,
and Exxon won't sponsor
you.
Published Black Buzzard Press - 1982
Copyright © Thomas Wells | Year Posted 2020
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