Unpoetry:

Do you really think
a single word you write
is relevant to anyone
but poets?

You are a fool.

Poetry died with
the hoolahoop
when John-boy's Dad put out the light

"You wouldn't like me when
I'm angry."
is the banner that flies
over novelists, essayists,
even pansy historians

but poets are pussies.

the art of words is dead,
and we are the ghosts.

There is nothing left
unsaid, no passions to regal
in hushed voices
murmuring in purred perfect
iambs, didactic dactyls and
slow smooth spondees.

Fuck the world.

There is nothing left
here to say. to believe. to do
to think. to know.
Faith has left us.

We are wry.
We are witty.
We are so urbane.

We know every righteous thing
all the mysteries of tolerance
and unconditional love. Oh yes
we are liberal and learned.
We are the protectors of the word
and the only truthspeakers.

Yes. It is we,
the irrelevant who choose
to believe the fallacies of
rhyme, of reason, and the utter
failure of our utterances to
perturb the people to action.

Fuck poetry and
corporate paintings of hibiscus
that match the drapes and compliment
the neatly arranged arm chairs
in our god damned lobbies.

Fuck poetry and
government sponsored artists reeking
of whore-etry, libidinous drool and
the properly etched paperwork in
the properly marked beige manila folder.

Fuck poetry and
the publications that only print the musings
of the fetid few who lust for fame in
big sloppy latinate words covered in
obnoxious erudite pablum.

Oh, to be the unpoet
that is my dream.

to be the virgin ears
the untainted love
the unversed ettiquette of shameless dance

Oh, yes, to be the unpoet
the unfucked.
the unloved.

who might wake the world again.

Fuck poetry,
It is time to rage!
It is time to rape!
It is time to eviscerate
the words and leave the audience
bleeding. praying we have nothing
left to say.

Do you Really think
poetry is relevant?

Fuck you too.