Happy Poets

Only dawning on
me now
that for
as loud
slash
rambunctious as
these thousands of
stanzas can be,

I probably won’t
be the first
search result for

amicability.

(Try Googling
killjoy instead.)

I’m not half
dark as people
probably ballpark
me in
their heads.

Certain Wal-mart
patrons put
me to shame, and I’ve
definitely met a few
clinical
heartbreakers in
my time.

But line by
line, phonic following
phonic,

I’ve possibly let
pessimism take us for
a midnight drive.

So consider this
my shining example of
a manic mandible with bleach
white enamel;
an outstretched
hand panhandling for
musical numbers in

lock and
step with you,
inner animal on
the loose,
because screw
the therapeutic cause.

Tonight we’re letting our
happiness play God,
the cosmic
glue that holds paper-
thin bonds together.

I’ve got my
smile down to
the letter,
rolling spliffs and letting
line breaks
light each tip

(queue your coughing
trip, kids)

so you can
inhale something a bit stronger than
you’re perhaps used to smoking.

I picked English as
my poison, twisting up
half ounces at a time;
juxtaposition junkie
relapsing at
the sight of a runaway
kite

(oh, the
heights I’d
love to reach.)

And now that I’ve
proved to everyone and
their mother I’m a moral
embarrassment,
literary
equivalent of buying
minors cigarettes,

all bets are
off and my safety
nets are gone.

But I’ll laugh
it off, ’cause there’s
a pecking order that will
inevitably
peck;

pedigrees to
uphold and publications who
reject anything
less than
laureates.

Notorious
poetic ninja,
samurai of rhyme,
Jedi
mind tricks hidden
inside limericks,

shattered grammar
recombined.

That’s some Da
Vinci Code shit right
there, watching happy

poets in
their prime.

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6 thoughts on “Happy Poets

  1. I had to ponder whether this was written with poetic tongue firmly in poet’s cheek and have decided to take it literally and delight myself in the unrestrained bliss of a well-crafted, novel and unrestrained voice of happiness. Major kudos due here.

    Liked by 1 person

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