open mike
they read their poems as if it matters
it does not
i read the poems that matter
to me
i don’t need to hear their voices
i have my own voice reading theirs
the clever emphasis on the clever words
is ~ ~ so ~ ~ boring
i have a jar of cadence
like the fizz of sherbet when i dip my wet finger in
stand back
light your blue touch paper
and hide and
watch me explode
No comments:
Post a Comment