Bad Poetry
B
Barry Middleton
0
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Day after day we read the poetry
of the glitterati and the novice,
who pen meaningless metaphors
to incarcerate endless nonsense.
Like waves of a mindless tsunami,
they crash one after another
on distant and empty shores
where blind men conjure visions.
We hang stars in imagined night
to fight with the moon of dreams.
We cry out with our fears and tears
trying to touch a hopeless wind.
We search for wisdom in the seasons,
and pray the gods may really care.
While here within our quaint verse,
the universe conceals its mystery.
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