Is it just me?
Am I really alone in believing that a poem
Is more than a series of lines of well-timed rhymes?
Am I the only one who can see that 5-7-5
Is still just a string of silly syllables
If the subject covered is ubiquitous or trite?
How many poetic celebrations of the coming of spring do we really need?
How many descriptions of a lover’s raven locks?
Or her ivory breasts?
Or the stars in her eyes?
Or the stars in the sky for that matter?
I have been told my poems are not very feminine.
Must every poetess focus on domestic felicity?
Is it a literary sin for me to write about philosophy?
I will admit I have little interest in romantic fantasy,
But I know how to hypnotize my listeners
And draw them into a universe that only I could envision.
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