Subway Stop Stanza

This poem is for people who are always in a hurry
Who can’t afford the luxury of rhythm or of rhyme
The folks who skim so quickly that the stanza breaks are blurry
It’s true: This one’s for you! Now aren’t you glad you took the time?

I Have A Tell (Part 2)

My optimistic verses tend
To come before the evening’s end
(By fifteen hours, more or less).
If truth be told, I must confess
That optimism’s my default:
I’m bubbly as a slug in salt
When I wake up (just ask my wife!)
Before my daily slice of life
Lands jam-side-down and stains my slacks;
My late-day writing often lacks
That element of joie de vivre
Through which my early works deceive
The reader into thinking I’m
A jolly salt-slug all the time.
Such joyous voices fill my head
Those mornings I’m a slug-a-bed!
It’s rare, though, that my day permits
Delight. By night, when writing fits,
Sarcastic cynicism’s seething;
Bitterness, like labored breathing,
Wheezes back of every line,
And that’s the way you’ll know they’re mine.

Bob Dylan Notwithstanding

poems have no rules
except
that those with rules
are not

those who rhyme
are fools
what’s taught in schools
ought be forgot

the sonnet is passé
if that’s the way
you write
you’re wrong

rhyme and rhythm
count
for no amount
go write a song