So much bad poetry
like the many handguns
ready to kill.
We’re not all poets, people,
like we’re not all police officers.
No, end-rhyme is not a crime
unless you shoot it every time.
Much worse is middle school
girls writing about playing tackle
football and not even getting words right,
so how could they target feelings?
Or their friends writing about perceived
or even real
love, suicide, and rape--
miniature soap operas misfiring.
I know better than to think
posting comments would force them
to put their poems away
and stop hurting others
as much as themselves.
Besides, I want all those poetry lovers
to read my shots in the dark,
so we’ll all continue to pretend
all of us can aim true
and shoot straight.
read more poems like this one here: Rumbling Stumbling Bumbling Fumbling: An American's Jittery Journey Through Life