No One Knows

No one knows
the tragedy
of the poem
without any
poetry
in it

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Three A.M. Poetry Writing

O POEM
MY POEM
MY LOVELY POEM
I SCREAM IN CAPITAL LETTERS
ABOUT YOUR LOVELINESS
I CARESS YOU
WITH THE FINGERS OF MY MIND
O POEM
O SNAKE POEM
YOU ARE A SNAKE POEM NOW
AND I SHALL BITE YOU
FOR I BITE ALL
THE SNAKE POEMS
MY SNAKE POEM
GO FORTH
INTO THE WORLD
AND DO NOT FALTER
OR FORGET TO EAT
A BALANCED
BREAKFAST

Fox

The title of this poem
is a pun
that would have worked better
if I had posted it
earlier in the day

I don’t even like puns
but here I am
putting a bad one
in the title of
a poem

It’s a completely pointless
pun that only
exists because
I am tired
and tomorrow is Monday

Perhaps I should
go to bed
and stop building bewildering
puns into the titles
of poems that don’t matter to anyone

Poem

Grilling the sun
and broiling the moon
are both impossible
except in poetry
where everything is a metaphor
and words are held at gunpoint
and forced into uncomfortable compromises
while poets stand around them
and nod sanctimoniously