Mediocre poetry

Poetry

like every phenomenal human enterprise

is greatly imaginative,

and often deluded

ignorning the pain

that is living a life

in waiting

waiting for something brighter and better

to come along

to salvage

a semblance of happiness

from this suicidal wreckage.

Poetry

like TV, but worse

misleads

making us believe

that it’s actually a pursuit

of something intellectual

or spiritual

or truly cathartic

when more often than not

it is just empty words

cleverly punctuated

inauthentic gibberish

with great font

and line spacing

and a picture of something

beautiful and unrelated.

Poets

who dare

to unleash the hell

that is living

in a mortal world

and sacrifice their livers

in pursuit of

truth

and beauty in the uninitiated

the ugly, unwanted

are often lynched

put down

with the quintessential mediocrity

of common folk

who seek

to shield the world

from its own ugliness.

Poetry

like that part of us

which didn’t evolve

and fell out of use

is often removed

from our bodies

surgically

but first

anaesthetizing ourselves

with fast food

movies and self help books.

Poets

like all mortals

forever indebted

to invisible sky beings

and untested ideals

fall down the deep end

of a piss pool

never coming up for air

never frantic

submissive

and quite dead.

 

 

 

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