The principal says sorry, the track meet competes
with publication party, sorry, it competes.
My voice rises to angry protest then despair
poetry isn't practical, it can't compete.
In Slanted Truths kids write the truth, I want them to
shine at the Community Center not compete.
The morning dove mourns this morning, sad coffee house
music sighs as I complete this. I don't compete.
What if all the track athletes, the spring sports supports
came to the celebration, refused to compete?
What if all the soldiers became real warriors
dropped their weapons and lifted their pens to compete?
Laura dreams all the people gather to hear poems,
embrace beauty rather than the urge to compete.
--
mostly it's a ghazal
(rhymes with puzzle, gh pronounced like French "r". Unless you're speaking Arabic.)
5 comments:
Fuck a duck.
Oh yeah, I forgot: Fuckfaces.
right ON, though we had FORTY PEOPLE at the publishing party and reading! YAY!
smart one.
dark humor.
Enjoyed this, awesome talent.
Invite you to join poets rally week 42 by sharing a free verse today.
Hope to see you in!
Have A Blessed Tuesday!
xxx
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