Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Poetry Festivals

It’s a clique,
So to speak,
These august poetic readings,
If you’re in,
You can grin
And relax throughout proceedings.
If you’re part
Of the heart
Of the free verse literati,
Then you’ll know
Where to go
For the very latest party.
And it does
Not help us
On the outside dumb and jealous,
That you’re kind
And inclined
To be straight in what you tell us.
As we wait
By the gate
And we dally and we dither,
What we crave
Is a wave
And a nod that says come hither.
As I watch,
Sipping Scotch,
With my writing fingers trembly,
How I yearn
In my turn
To be part of the assembly.

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