I fucking hate poetry

Fuck fucking this poetry

Absolute crap bullshit whining

Vitriol filth mind mining

weak reflections on a bland life

Of stupidity as if the poet was special,

As if this shit was a fucking art like

Knives, driven into symbolistic shitholes

Social commentary trapped in time

What fucking use this meter this rhyme

The poet complains, the poet describes

Attacking archetypes with clever jibes

A quick eye

An ear for adjectives

The ability to learn quickly from the narcissism of others

The easy mistaking of words for voice

The easy forgetting simile’s choice

It’s like

It is

It reminds me of

Notice the reflection

The way the shadow falls

The way the light dances

The particulars of our love

Oh mortality Oh mortality

The ingratitude

The divinity of the trivial

The dead friend

The parted parent

The disenfranchised lover,

That one gets it twice two ways different,

The abandoned lover,

Hovers over the paper perfumed with her withered discontent.

I fucking hate poetry

So I will fight fire with fire

Those useless words against my useless screaming

What is this a fucking hobby?

A hobby where you hang your hat?

These hobbies rape my(your) need

These hobbies made from art

These arts made from work

This work made from spirit

This spirit made from mind

This mind made from body

This body made from earth

This earth made from rock

This rock made from dust

This dust made from stars

These stars made from matter

This matter made from energy

This energy

So fuck poetry.

 

 

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