EVERYONE THINKS THEY WRITE GOOD POETRY

but no one wants to buy it.
So, do you wonder why it
is so?
I know
I’m the world’s second greatest poet (after you)
whose work never fails to bring tears (laughter too)
and yet does worldly acclaim
actually forget my name
(factually, it never came).
Should we care who bear de blame,
and declare unfair de shame?
If with such rue I be thus smitten,
I doubt that you would see this written.

KNOW PROBLEM

If reality wants to get in touch,
it knows where I am.

–Phil Proctor

But should you meet
it in your dreams,
wouldn’t you want to
see some I.D.?

LIPS SINK SAINTS

Set on heaven?
Live life a saint.
Hell is hot to
Get those who ain’t.
Purgatory’s
Where those saints go
Who told sinners
“I told you so!”
If your sainthood’s
On the bubble,
Mind your tongue or
Head for trouble.

A LITTLE LIGHT MUSIC

This little light bulb lasted two years;
This little light bulb lasted one.
    Both made light of the night,
    But burn bright as they might,
Could not hold a candle to the sun.

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