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Poets Don't Get Into Trouble Anymore I'm kicking cans when I thought of this, half-in-tears Thinking of the Spanish poet's blood. The love/hate between him and fascist stooges....at least Possessed of enough awareness to know. Threatening power was in him. Who in knowing must have hated What they had to do more than him. Poetry is not distinguishable from other matters, not defined Out like flour, textured to be not lumpy. Serious business, it is knocking things in the head that cannot Stand upright when spoken to, about, seen inside. Byron, Pushkin fought duels over so much less and another Martyred himself to foreign ideals on lonely soil. Knock the fucking cobwebs out if you would be more... Than a verbal dandy, turning lines to but entertain. Entertain who?...the minstrel's audience? (and I thought there was more than refrain to all this.) Perhaps there is not, when poets no longer get into trouble. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2006-08-13 16:32:47
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.47059
Perhaps there is not, when poets no longer get into trouble.
I got into trouble critiquing you...............