Indulgence

Here comes the Stickman, computer in hand,
Spewing constant reports of the thoughts
That pop into his head. “Everything that I
Think is important, and all of it's poetry
You ought to read,” but it's not. What it's
Mostly is claptrap, and mostly misspelled.
We indulge the poor Stickman. He's harmless,
So we let him hand us his babbling. We
Smile as we read while we search for
A reason to leave.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 64 times
Written on 2020-03-13 at 14:06

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