Bards

From “A Fine Line”

When they declare themselves bards

They are phony

When they don’t

They are untalented

When they let others declare it

They are arrogant

Pompous

Sons of bitches

Who want to fuck 18-year-olds

——————

The bitter pen

The overused quill

Is a bitter pill

We need to have experienced heartache

Turbulence

Hardship

How else can one write?

Having a job

Buying a car

A condo

Going to be gym

These superfluously malignant activities

Lead to spreadsheets

To accountants

Poets are the suffering

The real soothsayers

The truthseekers

—————–

Live honestly

Openly

Write

Write anytime

Just do it

Paint a picture of your mind

——————

I write of women

Of war

Famine

Poverty

But most of all

I take your soul

Tie it up

Squeeze it

And serve it to you in indecipherable prose

————————

The meek inherit nothing

The rich die, as do the poor

But they had a richer life, in theory

Give up your vile texts!!!

Restore yourself to glory

Give everything up

Join the movement to happiness

For a bard is always elated

No matter how dreary the circumstance

As long as he can create

——————

Or

Just live vicariously

And read this

From the posh living room chair
Copyright Ted Kouretas 2001

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