The hardest part about
writing a poem for
readers is knowing what
Works to excite their brains
the surprise they long for
like a twist at the end
If I knew what readers
want what clicks on the page
to make their fingers snap
To make them jump for joy
run around in circles
bark raving mad a mutt
Caught between chasing cars
rubbing their dirty ass
on the grass or sleeping
Hell yes the reader is
a mongrel that eats shit
and dreams kicking her paws
Maybe I am wrong but
you'd think after thirty
years I'd get how to write
Under no conditions
does a writer figure
out what works best to send
Slippery is the slope
of logic to know why
someone else gives a crap
Created equal people
are equally stupid
equally smart as time
Leaps forward and backward
as girls skip double dutch
boys play hopscotch weeping
Each day of their childhood
is numbered until wham
adulthood and its laws
Racing around a track
I run to figure out
why we are here despite
Understanding what love
the meaning of our lives
entails without money
No one cares if you drink
smoke curse since you can't help
no one else in this life
No one cares if you write
for yourself or others
or if you got a dime
Enter the world of bliss
ignorance politics
laugh though it's not funny
Remember language burns
my mind aflame brighter
than Baghdad full of strife
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