in the poetry section of brown university bookstore, providence, r.i.

in the poetry section of brown university bookstore,  providence,  r.i.


When you ask me where are the poets of today -
I can answer you emphatically
that I have seen them skulking
among empty spaces full of pages—
When you ask me where are these modern versifiers-
I can tell you that I have seen them
continually among a fog of books --

And I have seen these geniuses of writing classes
haphazardly thumb through volumes
while they wait among smashed verbs -
that go nowhere on shelves
inscribed and perfect bound
with words that would be
wishing wells for these thick talkers --
For these borrowers of sentiment—


For these poets that carefully
coif and spike their outer anonymity
with streaks of purple angst —
looking like rock stars drugged
by just the proper dactyls
of urban trendiness while
these same self-proclaimed new age poets
circle endlessly in apparent boredom--
Like vultures eyeing these aisles to swoop
on those unsuspecting few —

who stop unaware
of this purposely planned introduction
to the “rap” and “spin” of modern verse--

Today’s poets spring silently at their prey —
on boots better made for stomping than alliteration —
And casually pluck their own books from the racks --
And smile with a look of practiced sincerity ——
While turning to say ‘This person’ s pretty good” –
And then ask “Have you read anything by them?” –
“You really should you know” they say
with just a tinge of hipster/peer pressure In their tone –
“Everyone says its better than an orgasm” they add
hoping to lure you with visions of quick sex --
Always remembering to look deeply
as they speak the false phrases –
Hoping by the guile of personality to achieve an apotheosis -
They could never reach by words
better left -- honestly alone