Polite people do not become poets
We, the unmannered
offer no apologies,
for blaspheming love in our soliloquies,
scavengers of wisdom,
measuring out the world
with our metaphors,
step by step
with our words,
we can wipe out dysfunction
and create a new anthology
death will come,
someday,
for all us poets and our words,
but we will not go gently
