Let me Count the Poets Left

7

Let me Count the Poets Left

You must not assume what I assume
You must not hold the sun between your eyes
You must not face the rapture alone
The waves of the future sink us
You will become obsolete
Can you endure that?

In fact, inject giraffes into your poems?
It will not be enough
As writers we skirt the issues of skirts
We duck the bullets of sense
We hide from the music of life
Yet we thrive living aloud with words

We thrive because fundamentally
We have no destination, we are the speakers
For the living, voice of our times
We relish in the fact, like contemporary
Truly bad contemporary poets
We can be the head-butting poem on Facebook
Nobody can afford to read again.

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