Poetry.
Euphony.
Dark, light.
Rhymed, not.
Metered, free.
Long, brief.
Symphony
I Salute You William Shakespeare
If I could just remember who wrote what,
and what they said,
I would quote them in my poetry,
the living and the dead.
I would be obtuse and dark,
droning on in endless prose.
not caring where my poem’s been
not knowing where it goes.
They’d think I’m educated,
worldly, pithy, hard.
For sure an academic.
cutting edge, avant garde.”
I would throw the cesspool at them
from bathroom to bordello.
A gasp, a blush, a whisper,
“He is such a brilliant fellow.”
They would clap when I was finished,
softly sigh, and nod assent.
And wonder if the others
had a clue of what I meant.
Dennis Price