Alright, whose poetry do you read
when you need a fix? As I can recite
from memory just about everything
I ever found intriguing – say three or
four hundred poems, plus a few lines
from the idiot focus of skewed teachers
who insisted I learn masses of poetic
shit, what of it? Clearly small beer. And
not here on this page; I would be pleased
although not amazed to learn you
read the classics. I am a character
escaped from a Breughel painting:
guess where I am. You’ll be surprised
I don’t stand out from the multitude,
concerned I just look the same.
© I.D. Carswell 2007-01-28
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