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But Of Course I’m A Failed Poet

CAPO

I fret when I feel
the verse too rehearsed
the line too on time
the abstract too exact—
or an interior rhyme too
refined, sublime, or—
one trick tony

I pony up to run
on the rail—then
afraid to fail, I move wide
to be sure to obscure
the finish line- that
Winner’s Circle of Hell—
and a subsequent pell-mell
descent— in having to dissent
the matter of my own canon

NaPoWriMo April 2020.



r.Douglas

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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