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

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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

Back to Normal

Sometimes
the lack of nonsense
takes over
and the bad poetry
briefly
turns less bad

But the situation
is only temporary
and soon
the badness is back
and we are all
happy

Happiness
is a warm bad poem
full of metaphors
that only work on Tuesdays
and sly allusions
to ground squirrels

Punch me in the face
bad poetry
punch me in the face
with love
and joy
you magnificent prude