margarets dead is a dead poem
Submitted by radicalh on Fri, 14/06/2019 - 07:03
hello, so here we are now
huddled for this tented voyage
never ready for blunt-faced
rock star poets to speak
like main street pastry
sweet calorific word-units rained brutal
all yr fat thick metaphoric
les murray-style stanzas
spoken lines and maybe munted rhymes
here in this sacred semiotic space
hills n hills of rows of fine vines clarified
harrowed like hashtagged hashtags
a margaret river narrative
not even a weed in sight
and poetry is dead again, woke
