On First Looking Into Schmidt’s Lives of the Poet

by A. Sea Herndon

On First Looking Into Schmidt’s Lives of the Poets

Much have I traveled in the realm of words

and caught there colds that have no cures

language like addiction spurs

the junkie poet to steal more words

the rhythms, ah they come, like hot

night-sweat fevers ill-begott’n

but words, those words, those goddamned words

the substance that the addict craves

words enough to quench the page

So as this two-pound tome I crack

its breaking spine like thunder

keep guard, good doctor, watch your back

the Poet’s come to plunder

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Happy April Fools’ Day! Happy National Poetry Month (U.S.)! Happy Cruellest Month (T.S. Eliot)!

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