Some people wander through life
with a thesaurus and grammar rules
stuffed in their back pocket.
Your words disturb them,
disrupt their boring lives.
They correct your syntax,
judge your verb usage,
condemn all adjectives
while their writing lies flat and impotent,
no depth in their vision,
an imagination locked in a basement
full of cobwebs.
I’ve seen them flex their knowledge
like muscles built on steroids
in a gym only they attend,
lifting weights of nonsense,
prideful cowards.
Life’s too short.
The moon still smiles.
The ***** still burns.
The poems don’t care
about your footnotes.
Let them play critic.
I’ll stay in the morning light
of my own page,
writing without permission,
without ego,
without fear.
All that buzzing—
where the hell did my fly swatter go?
Jan 27
Jan 27, 2026 at 5:53 PM UTC
Some people wander through life
with a thesaurus and grammar rules
stuffed in their back pocket.
Your words disturb them,
disrupt their boring lives.
They correct your syntax,
judge your verb usage,
condemn all adjectives
while their writing lies flat and impotent,
no depth in their vision,
an imagination locked in a basement
full of cobwebs.
I’ve seen them flex their knowledge
like muscles built on steroids
in a gym only they attend,
lifting weights of nonsense,
prideful cowards.
Life’s too short.
The moon still smiles.
The ***** still burns.
The poems don’t care
about your footnotes.
Let them play critic.
I’ll stay in the morning light
of my own page,
writing without permission,
without ego,
without fear.
All that buzzing—
where the hell did my fly swatter go?
I just dropped a new poetry video on YouTube words read out loud, no polish, no net:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?vLEQlkNVsIQA
My books are on Amazon if you want more.
https://www.amazon.com/stores/Thomas-W.-Case/author/B0CL2RKDGX?refsr
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