A Little Learning Leads to One Being Dead in the Water

Buoyant at the depth of your skill 
While downing swill after swill 

From the Pierian Spring, keep this 
Swell thought afloat if you will— 

Deep thirst for undying fame leaves 
Many a poet bloated lying there still. 

Perspective Distance

--for Ed Baker 



the moon looks


to be fleeting 

yet staying


on intimate terms

an arm’s length away 

Regarding Warning Labels on Provocative Works of Literature

Be forewarned— 

These poems contain language 
That might be considered unsavory 
And thus unfit for public consumption 
By large portions of the hoi polloi. 

If you’ve been served 
Shit for brains, don’t 
Just stand there diddling about, 
Eat your fucking heart out.

Must Read: Electrifyingly Imperative Chinese Multi-Language Vispo Found Poem!

Please right click to open new window, thus letting in as many mosquitos as necessary to fully appreciate stunning power of poetic apparatus.

Tale of the Lonesome Pine

Been rooted here so long 
Listening to the wind, 
Don’t make much sense 
To get up and mosey on 
Further down the ridge. 

If I did, I’d be still 
There standing in line 
Looking up 
Waiting to see 
How much I missed. 

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Shelley's "Poets are the Unacknowledged Legislators of the World"

Gentlemen, have we all gone mad? 
In the Muse’s name, let us 
Proceed with all due haste! 
Clearly there are other things 
More crucial to our material 
And spiritual well-being, 
With examples so bountiful that 
Many of our disillusioned 
Noble riders believe 
Such romanticisms should be 
Summarily dismissed as being 
Inconsequential and irrelevant 
To the nightmarish issue that keeps 
Rearing its ugly head before us, to wit: 

Do we have a quorum? 
Or more to the point, 
Have we ever had one? 



Moderator’s comments: I think it’s high time Huuk dismounted his high horse and went to pasture. With the exception of the plague of stable boys and girls who keep grooming Pegasus for the next running of the MFA Perennial Win Place and Show Poetry Sweepstakes, who gives a flying Phaeton fuckaroo about poetry, anyway?

Going, Going, Gone

Never a get-up-and-goer you feel 
There’s nothing to keep you here, 
That you could slip away 

Any time now with nobody 
The wiser—or worse yet—nobody 
Giving a damn how your time was spent,

And oh with everybody who’s anybody 
Wishing you a long, safe journey 
To wherever it is you went.