I would rather write one good poem
and have it lost
to you and you,
among the waterfall crushing
of trite and rushing verbal droppings
and the infrequent masterpieces
years from now
mediocre and facing myself,
mirror-wincing,
at a dyed and dying
vanity,
years from now
admission: confession:
my goal was
glory and fame,
to be celebrated,
recalled and retained,
if only
by myself,
with smidgened satisfaction
my Cain mark,
is not a celebration
of a brother's birthright
usurped,
Frailty
thy name
literary adulation
like so, too many
other failures recorded
lost to lol but me,
but one,
perhaps
this one(?)
to enfold
in my
withering, neatly-voiceless
hands
saying and believing,
perhaps!
with this one,
I have justified
my existence
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
I would rather write one good poem
and have it lost
to you and you,
among the waterfall crushing
of trite and rushing verbal droppings
and the infrequent masterpieces
years from now
mediocre and facing myself,
mirror-wincing,
at a dyed and dying
vanity,
years from now
admission: confession:
my goal was
glory and fame,
to be celebrated,
recalled and retained,
if only
by myself,
with smidgened satisfaction
my Cain mark,
is not a celebration
of a brother's birthright
usurped,
Frailty
thy name
literary adulation
like so, too many
other failures recorded
lost to lol but me,
but one,
perhaps
this one(?)
to enfold
in my
withering, neatly-voiceless
hands
saying and believing,
perhaps!
with this one,
I have justified
my existence
