I May be Speaking of You

I will take his vapid, florid words and grind them
Into metal blades to pierce and cut, and doing so,
I'll aim to rouse his torpid readers from the fog
Of uselessness. "See and feel!," I'll say to them.
"It's not enough to sit somewhere and gurgle
As an infant would to vapid, florid words."



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 30 times
Written on 2012-06-03 at 15:21

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