I don’t
Want to practice
A dead art.
But you are practicing it
So how can it be dead?
Gone from the memory
Of the people. Lost
Are the words to them.
Confused by broken
Syntax and boiled down
Meanings. Un-reflected
Lives don’t contemplate
Their own depravity in
The face of those surrounding them.
Not enough words for
Comprehension available.
A failing of the Academies?
Lost to glowing gods
That speak of everything
And say nothing. No food
Left for the spirit of inquiry
Lost focus of the digitized mind.
Alas, poetry is dead unless we can resuscitate the culture.
