This poem
will certainly be a big hit
I'm throwing everything I've got
and more into it
All the bells all the whistles
all my poetic tricks
Rolling up my sleeves,
into my open palm I will spit

This poem I'm pulling
out all of the stops
Remove the plug at the bottom,
raise the roof at the top
Fill in the middle
with all that I've got
Blowing it all
on the entire lot

This poem will either
make me or break me
Lose me or save me,
I'm thinking maybe
They'll love me or hate me,
all want to date me
In Mardi Gras beads
they'll want to drape me

This poem will embarrass
all the other poems
Because this one poem
will have it all going on
From the time it's conceived
to the moment it's born
All other poems
will concede to it's throne

This poem may even
bring on the end
All the poets of today
will turn in their pens
They'll be too afraid
to write anything
As it will be the blue print
to how a poem is written

Now that last thoughts got me thinking
that it shouldn't be wrote
As it being the only poem
is a scary thought
And how this single poem
could yield so much power
I'd be crazy to set it free
to dispose and devour

All this poem could do
has really opened my eyes
So on second thought
I'm not going to write
I'll lock up that thought
shut the door tight
Another poem at this time
I'll just have to find...