I come up with six ‘poems’ in thirty days while a friend (go there for poems) does thirty.
It’s wonderful what can pass off as poetry these days. Add some random line breaks to a paragraph — make it lively if you can but you don’t have to — and that’s it. Why stick to rhyme or meter? These are devices of oppression, power structures that pervade every sphere of life as we know it. Why be constrained by them? Before you go off in disgust, my tongue is firmly planted in cheek.
O what terrible contagion must infect these
Plebeians that has extinguished their ability to
Conjugate — if they ever could, that is! — words in the
Proper fashion, and not to mention, with the
Supplies a plural verb and makes him
Cheat though the subject is truly one. Only,
She has many friends.
Yet the damage is done and the
Marriage is gone. What cruelty!
Prejudice the hyphen with all manner of
Hype. En and Em dashes, silent victims, are
trampled and cast aside. Their places usurped, their
Birthrights denied. All without recompense and
Apology. What injustice!
“Its literally a disaster, no pun intended.”
To use the possessive for the
Contraction. All the while implying
Stellar, literally, destruction. Where, by the way,
is the pun? Or the (non)intention?
Three assaults covered in a
Sentence. That could be one.
Also, the simple past instead of the
Perfect. What ills have they against
Tense? That they misreport events, the
Grammar is a fickle
Mistress. Her rules, flanked by
Exceptions innumerable, stare pitilessly at your helpless
Words. But know, respect, and then, occasionally,
Flout them. For what beauty lies to be created!
What delights of the heart to be experienced
And what fulfilment of the mind to be had!