Unfortunately, I have not wrote poetry
Fortunately, I have danced poetry
Spit poetry
**** poetry
broke poetry
smoked poetry
misguided poetry
sang poetry
and asked poetry for spare change
I took poetry on a date and didn’t call back
Spun poetry on my ring finger
to put it back in my mouth and continue to chew
I’ve crumpled poetry into a ball
and shown it to the stars of my waste bin
Fortunately, poetry hasn’t called me back
or asked, “how was your day?”
Fortunately, I’ve culled poetry without a quill
and selected poetry to see the tracks
of an un-poetic railway
like a jail, poetry can’t see the bars
I brought poetry down, down, down
and smothered poetry onto myself
got caught in the rain
the snow
the sun
and sand
I repeat poetry
I repeat poetry as the way
the way
to nowhere poetry
I never ended it with poetry
I’ve never ended poetry.
Did I do it right?