A Poet and a Pauper Stop for Coffee.


Hesitated pleasure for simple things
Like Armageddon-
Like spontaneous images formed in clouds of dust
Dancing inside sunlight.

“Oh. Yeah,” said the pauper,
“The stars are out so people are in love.”

Sure enough-
Lanky chops stretched their touch
Towards a plain dissonance,
Many of them had yet to learn
What it meant to burn brilliantly.

“Oh. Yeah,” said the pauper,
(But mime the tone of the Kool-Aid Man
When thinking the phrase Oh. Yeah.
Trademarks have evolved into respected
Pop-Art. And advertisements are all that’s left
Of love & critique. So exploit the tonnage
An ER doctor vocalizes
While describing inevitable death
To mourning loved ones. Understand
The necessity to pacify grievances.
Or the entire human experiment
Will be nothing more
Than a conversation between a pauper
And a poet)
But. “Oh. Yeah,” said the pauper,
“When smiling towards those in love
Curtain yr. teeth with a drooping lip.
The adverse effect of this appearance
Will be to demonstrate humanity,
A fanged expression of the flesh!”

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