Not every poem’s brilliant, but it goes
with forward motion to some certain end
and nobody can ever truly know
exactly how the poet deigned to bend
the rigors of the language to their whim;
uncertainty rests heavy in the song,
but even if the poetry seems skim
all likelihood, they’ll string something along
because the words are fun. A poem’s a play
and words are Legos rising to the sky
to…

