03 December 2016


When you’re pilloried on the poem a day wrack,  
even if the choice to be free rests easy, there is 
no way lack of reasoned dialogue is reconciled, 
with whom you’ll digress, sliding away from any 
accusation you’re too fixated to notice it was all 
of your own doing, & recalling agonies suffered 
in times when you didn’t write, without excuses
other than boredom or distraction, before over- 

indulging in the antidote; you want feedback, it 
needs be coherent you’d agree - tho in quoting 
me you create monsters deviously lurking near 
media denizens; perhaps that’s where th’ irony 
gets muddied or murdered or both - the funeral 
pyres of mass media burn voluptuous currency 

either you’re getting paid and/or burnt attentive 
discrimination; and yet all you want’s discourse 
that feeds back and expands upon ideas you’d 
bandy for free, and they’re in your poem a day; 
leastways that’s how you’d equate it - although 
they’d claim exposure comes at a taxable rate 
© 17 August 2016, I. D. Carswell