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poetry is dead enough read
Poetry is dead
funeraled upon a pulpit’s breath lament
It does not breathe nor
to have a creed Poetry is not real its fed
Sought after and vetted
Good by so long Never mind in stanza’s
we mensch
I wont babble no more and you wont
petition see only a poem from a poet begged
I'm stoned in poem’s that’s death
im spoken on a poet’s breath
impressive while you stomped
I choose not to know how
a stanza’s mused
as a poem is 99 a line
just ranting before a scolding


if I stay still
can poetry fulfill
deadly to doubt

© Sean Windsor