With everything I read, I find
My views all vindicated;
And those who (I suppose) oppose
Me, are unmitigated
Bankruptcies of befuddled thought
Who can or will not see:
That what I say makes perfect sense —
At least
It does
To me
The poet cowers under an awning of words,
As the heavy rains of emotion sweep away the world
Using his poems to generate reasons,
And reasons to placate feelings
Because feelings need no reason for existence,
They only need reasons
So they can be experienced without shame
The poet seduces where possible
But most of the time
Merely barks like a dog
At nonexistent intruders