Write in rhyme or free verse, we are an enemy of
the state, even in free states, like England and the
USA. The power elite may read our poems to add
diversion to routines, moving levers of vast power.
But, down deep, their minds are ill-at-ease with pesky
poets who question all. They smile at us, as we stab
pens deep beneath the surface, to shine the light of
dissident minds unfettered. But trust me, they do not
smile inside. Look closely at the velvet glove on the
iron fist. In angry times unraveling, we may feel its
Unwelcome as our best poems are,
it is our duty to write,
and write, and write some more.
We know that whole societies
can go insane
without our leaven in their bread.