Critics Rightly Observe My Poetry Often Lacks Context

It could be anything
An orange peel
Sunset on a fractured path
Sunrise
On a fractured path
Cellulite on a fake-tanned
Thigh gone terribly wrong

Funky cheese

See here. See here. See here.
I’ve got my pointer out
Round the borders with every
Line-measure of words

But
Did you notice
Never on the actual
Thing

My frustration is quantifiable
I’ve made a chart
See here. See here. See here.
Just to the left of the
Glowing picture screen

Reader
I think we have both
Lost touch

It might have been longing
It might have been
Sunset on a fractured heart
Or some such
Trite shit as that

I give
Give up with me
Let’s call it

Funky cheese

Put our heads down on our desks
And take a nap

Poetry sucks anyway

-M.
(Day 4 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)

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