The Poet Can'T Write
J
Juan Olivarez
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The poet can't write,
He can't even spell.
And the worst part is,
He just can't tell.
Lost in his own world,
Full of Hubris.
Expounding his virtues,
Easy as you please.
What vile mockery,
Of the spoken word.
His lines are atrocious,
The worst ever heard.
God help us all,
Bless this poetry knave.
All the great poets,
Turned over in their graves.
3/19/11 Alton Texas
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