SO POETS REST AWHILE AND SHUT UP
Today it snowed on my newly minted red hair
and the dampness produced a map on my right cheek
A smudgey red boot has appeared
But will it provide the kick I need to leave
draughty tea shops & oh so beautiful arthouses?
And write hungry poems from behind grimy windows
Now I ask you: Is all of this renunciation really necessary?
For on this cold Spring day in a too pink lipstick
I have run out of things to say So for those of you
who would have me write the next Shades Of Grey
Go write your own softporn you forlorn bastards make hay make hay!
..All your writing about pain and suffering is bullshit..
Early Spring 2013 Songanddancegirl Bukowski & Kerouac’s Rimbaud 1960