The Poet As A Flatterer
he loves bukowski and e.e. cummings too,
and he colors his world with their shades and hues
and the souls of other poets come to him
love us too
we are too lonely in here
our poems have turned dusty
read us too
and out of respect for those who are dead and lonely
he takes them all inside his room
lights his lamp and burns his eyebrows
(literally dissecting each flesh and vein of those
poets departed)
he writes at the break of his day
i love you all and honor you
but sorry, i have my own poems too
and like yours... forgive me...
they're dusty too and need my reading company.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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