Monday, September 26, 2005


I have the right to write
Good bad or worse
Poetry is foreign to me
I vote for the verse.

I am hardly bothered
Whether it makes sense or not
My task is fulfilled
If it subverts.

Vanity and righteousness
And all such idiot views
By shooting a couplet or two
If I enact a coup.

Words go abegging
For meaning and sense
If I sit them for a drink
Then three cheers for my verse.

Diverse forms of expression
Whatever is left to write
Many may come and many may go
But verse will go on forever.

For when I am alone
And I converse
With who else than myself
It’s but through verse.


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