Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Why I Write, Part x+141: His Words

The poet is only as good as his words,
As moral as the great white shark,
A earthbound as the birds.
The poet lasts only as long as his mind
Has the legs to scan miles,
Nose to metaphors find.
It's the distance between wears the old poet out.
He finds one metaphor,
But can't bring it around.

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