This is not a poem about unrequited love
             not a poem about the changing of the seasons,
                                                    babb­ling brooks,
                                                    cloud­less skies,
                                                    Englis­h gardens in full bloom

             not a poem about setting suns, starry skies,
                                             full moons, glittering galaxies    

             not a poem about absent fathers,
                                             weepy mothers or your cranky old
                                             Aunt Clara in the attic plotting
                                             your death while her dentures soak
                                             in a Polident bath cup

             not a poem about the existence or non-existence of
                                                    a Supreme Being

             not a poem about when you abandoned your children
                                             or when your children abandoned you

             not a poem about poverty, social isolation,
                                             the Holocaust, war, the evils of
                                             capitalism, the specter of  injustice,
                                             the injustice of inequality, the
                                             inequality of injustice or any other
                                             word attached to the prefix "in"

             not a poem about ****** conquest, ****** dreams,
                                             the effects of liquor or drugs
                                             on one's libido

             not a poem that uses the f-word, the s-word, the c-word
                                                         ...or any of the other
                                                           ­ objectionable words used
                                                            ­to "front" the remaining
                                                       ­     letters of the alphabet

This
is
clearly
a
poem
about
what
is
not a poem