Just An Appreciative Note
Cast it into your mind, burn it
Into the inky grottoes of your hands, you
Aspiring verse varnishers:
We impecunious pugilists of poesy
Tread many paths,
So many that they would ask us
How many styles the universe would weave in her unveiling,
Bidden bride that she is
Coyer still as we read her vows.
We, who are lovers perverse as possible
Sleeping on the sepulchers of
Our ancient polyglotted professors
Licking the gritty granite
Sanding our teeth on the cenotaphs.
We, who bankrupt the bandits
With eternal promises of eternal life,
Sitting at their banquets, bibulously
Devouring and disdaining all that sits
And flits and waddles before our eyes,
Hypocritically calling beyond this brine of truculent tyrannies,
Howling those words to undue our patron’s plans
Equality! freedom! wisdom!
Howling them at such a pace
The dervishes deign to dance
And our alliterative angles
Finally find a voice.
We, who make the lovers weep
To etch in their hearts
Our little songs cut deep.
We, who make the madmen sane
Who give the pundits pause
We, who stop the mobs of men
And garner their applause.
We, who find the words
That let us all adore
Our favorite thing
Is just an appreciative note
This and nothing more.