The only words I write that matter are
In rhyme and rhythm. If you think my thoughts
On politics are worth your time, you're wrong.
Don't waste your time with all such pointless naughts.
Don't waste your time with things that pass. Find life
In timeless things, in words that are transcendent,
Beyond the everyday and transient.
No, seek out words and sounds that are resplendent.
Seek out the rhythms, rhymes, and roundaboutness
That build in blooms of breathless bounty borne
In poetry partaking of deep wisdom
In complex webs that never can be worn.
So why are these, my lines of poetry,
Unread compared to silly surface things?
It seems we all prefer the superficial,
The comfort that all frivolousness brings.