by Doug Draime
It MUST BE the POETS magazine
because they’re always
pictured on the front
with their arms around
each other, smiling.
On the inside they praise each
other and themselves,
their writing never making any waves;
but it sure is lyrical
“Have a nice day.”
If you send them money, they might
publish you too! And you could
make it to the cover to stand beside
the rest of the POETS, who have
come upon another cheap little hustle,
to survive yet another lie about
modern day poetry.
December 26, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
-
▼
2009
(479)
-
▼
December
(38)
- Some thought
- CUNT
- pissing away time
- the greatest truth we have ever been shown
- Pretending The Apple Pie Is Fresh
- Elitism Is Defeatism, Sorry, Charlie
- “NOSTALGIC MENENTOS”
- Polanski
- HORROR EXPRESS
- MID SUMMER NIGHT
- AUGUST, THEN AFTER
- The Vulva
- WRITING CLASS, SYRACUSE WINTER
- MEDICATION IS FORNICATION
- long stretch of emptiness
- Asked why
- shapes
- broken places
- LYING OUT IN THE FIELDS WHERE THERE’D BE WILD STRA...
- NIGHTS IT WAS TOO HOT TO STAY IN THE APARTMENT
- STILL NOT HAPPY
- PAST THE ABANDONED RAILROAD
- TONGUE
- Aeneas or How I Miss Her Ass
- mea culpa
- Twenty Five Dollars
- News Report
- Where Did The Money Go
- IN MIDDLEBURY, THE BEE MAN DIES
- MIDDLEBURY BEE MAN DIES
- din
- life in the small-press
- 'you're my diamond boy'
- ON MY MOTHER’S BIRTHDAY
- boomerang kids
- THE MAD GIRL CAN’T BELIEVE SHE EVER WAS SOMEONE WH...
- She Doesn’t like the Ramones
- The Thunderbolt
-
▼
December
(38)
1 comments:
Draime, you're one of the few poets I almost always like.
Post a Comment