The Poet Can Change his Spots
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The poet sometimes writes with ermine as
The trim upon his writing lordly robe,
But sometimes he is playing sultry jazz,
Progressive, Dixieland, or Blues in strobe
Lights. Loving Christ may be his burden on
The first day of the week, but Friday night
Comes on inside his genitals, a dawn
Of hormones quickly forcing him to write
As if he has a condom on—or more
Like he has pulled his Thing out previous
To slamming it back in to fill the core
Of unsuspecting partners. Devious
The poet it is. He’s like a sneaky squid
That changes colors (BAM!) to feed his id.