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