the poet
Charles Bernstein
i detest the poet
the sing-songee
ooh-aahhee,
breathing too much in time
over and over again
the young poet pretends
he is allen ginsberg, writing
cock and balls and fuck
in every
other
line
the slamming poet,
the sodomization of carl sandburg
1990s style
he's a poet, he knows it, he's already blown it up
into a frenzied performance version of the st. valentine's day
massacre, times three
the academic,
all hail the academic
in a-b-a metered time
crisp white shirt, wrinkle-free pants
reciting on cue, timed response
politely clapping in rhyme
oh the poet,
that wholly sacred cow
plunders in his wonders, american dream
tastes like fat-free cream, floating atop his latte'
the holy poet,
that beatnik scruff
dressing in deadman's clothes, thinking
june-moon-spoon is clearly outta tune
wants to end his world
with a vicious plot
the poet,
the holy-subsidaired
conglomerated, merging poet
exploited and avoided,
cringing and fringing
for once
could change his world
if only
he would think things through