On a  roll

for putting 

myself down


can’t be blown 

away like Rimbaud


can’t see thru

Henry Miller

cosmogonical eyes


can’t drink

with Bukowski

or F Scott


it’s just me

here tonight

facing the anger

of the dark

and cowering


fearful of 

the full moon


Pound is esoteric

and Baudelaire

is bleary eyed


My eyes can not

focus on Blake or Shelley

and my heart

is shamed

with guilty conscience


never did

get Finnegan’s Wake


never did

ever both learning

how to write


always thought

it would just

come naturally


and, of course,

it never did.




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allets's picture

Mao Wrote Poetry

Will look up - slc



georgeschaefer's picture

many unknown poets blossom

many unknown poets blossom without recognition