My little poet, go outside and sit
in your little corner
get your little pencil
and notepad
like a good little poet
and sketch out your little stanzas
free verse or rhyme
whichever you choose
My little poet,
get out your crayon pencils
and choose any of your favorite colors:
red for similes,
blue for metaphors
yellow for hyperboles
green for onomatopoeias
orange for personification
purple for alliterations
My little poet,
your little creation will one day
encompass the reminiscent
of your vibrant, youthful spirit
superlative in wrath as one who avenges nemeses
sometimes a man out of hate is subsumed in sounds
propagating the use of onomatopoeias
stomping slapping and gerunding
the ancient and eternal anachronism
of what is now in the cocoon and now is in larva
and what is this painful scream eroding the deaf world...
this man
this insect
the rare element that rubs its stems
swirls in the air and like a plume of lead
falls too mature in this life of less.
in wrath he utters the sounds of this holocaust.
he yearns and desires the cataclysm
so if a big earthquake breaks the plates
there is a breakdown in gravity
and the shaft rebalances the glasses in the bars
and the transit of capitals,
the lines of cars naturally reborn
and it's on the oil-splattered roads
where men test the speed of their anguish
and while the sun illuminates what he doesn't even know
that man silences his anger
chewing and swallowing the gerunds once more.
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