have we strayed far from art?
Oh, Marvell?
Oh, Donne?
Oh, Jonson? And
sometime Wyatt?
forgive these modern
fornicating gluttonous
whirl of words.
pastoral shepherds are dead,
old friends
sultry sweet snatches
to sing of and dampen your quill,
mossy memories
those pining poets deflowering tulips
with their multi-lingual similes,
have been shot for their vague
caresses
mowers now grip their
flaccid scythes,
loitering near the iron
gates of life
forgotten and rotten are
their hot July desires
no.
no need to complain in
metered rhyme, just
give it to me straight
and hard
i'll take it all the same
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 6:53 PM UTC
have we strayed far from art?
Oh, Marvell?
Oh, Donne?
Oh, Jonson? And
sometime Wyatt?
forgive these modern
fornicating gluttonous
whirl of words.
pastoral shepherds are dead,
old friends
sultry sweet snatches
to sing of and dampen your quill,
mossy memories
those pining poets deflowering tulips
with their multi-lingual similes,
have been shot for their vague
caresses
mowers now grip their
flaccid scythes,
loitering near the iron
gates of life
forgotten and rotten are
their hot July desires
no.
no need to complain in
metered rhyme, just
give it to me straight
and hard
i'll take it all the same
an edited version of an older poem of mine
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