Classic

She walks in beauty like the night
whatever that means
as the night cannot walk
and is mostly just full of mean little people doing terrible things
so the simile sounds clever at first
but doesn’t stand up under scrutiny
yet by all means
let’s turn it into a poem
and force it on all the hapless undergraduates
who don’t really know
what a simile is anyway

Poagony

My need not to write a poem
has created
POAGONY
a state of agony
caused by poetry
FOR LO
the poanogy flows through my brain
thumps through my heart
spontaneously generates CAPITAL LETTERS through my gizzard
and no one understands the poagony
except other poagonists
none of whom
have written as many agonised poems
as I have

On Good Poems

Good poems
are as rare as diamonds
and would never be so crass
as to use diamond-based similes

Good poems
stand stoutly astride the universe
and are also quite sparing
with their metaphors

Good poems
drive good men
to scream into hurricanes:
“I am no poet!”

Good poems
will be exceedingly kind to you
and take you out to dinner
when they think you may need to talk

The Poem That Jack Wrote

This is the poem that Jack wrote

This is the line
that lives in the poem that Jack wrote

This is the word
that sits in the line
that lives in the poem that Jack wrote

This is the letter
that starts off the word
that sits in the line
that lives in the poem that Jack wrote

This is the point
I realise I’ve got too small
and there’s nowhere left to take this
stupid exercise that goes on and on
about the stuff in the poem that Jack wrote

This is the verse
that ends the poem
and I can’t even be bothered to give it
the right number of lines