i fucking hate poetry
it squeezes every gist of my body
and it crisps every bit of motivation
into two too
little leaflets with small rhymes
piss me off like a sting of a bug in a summer morning with but a drop of rain to smudge the ink
shakespearian beauty scratches my brain and
destroys slowly, mundanely its words
making loops around a loop
i hate poetry
because it is not beautiful, not rosey or romantic
but its involving, draining, reflecting
the struggle against the will
to make it
