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
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