i don’t(really)care
for ee cummings

but i am
enamored
by his layouts

even if
i don’t believe
he says anything of note:
(stylistically)
his work is/interesting/

let me curl up with Sylvia on sheets of the finest silk; smothered by a comforter filled with ebony feathers; let the downy barbs or hollow calamus cut lines of hot red as i writhe in poetic serendipity;

her words of erudite sorrow dipped in honeycomb; vociferous cries as the burden of existing settles

or just
a bottle
of red
close to vinegar
as
the keys
find the nuance
hidden
in debussy
as hank
near to black out
cuts
the beauty
from
the lines
leaving nothing
but

the filth

let me
lay
in the dark
reading about
betting the trifecta
then
passing out
in my car
after a pint
of scotch
trading stories
with
the whores
that prowl
the alleys

(style)brings in
curious eyes

but raw
keeps the fool

entertained

i am a proponent of
substance(abuse) over style maybe that is why
they say

i am a poet

but i know the truth

i am just
a goddamned fool