This Poet’s Predicament

Hemmed in an agenda jungle,
herded on the writing of writhing barge
while mountains green and brown, with lips
and language talents, exchange quips,
or they did exchange quips until the dark
realists invaded and found
talking mountains; and sedans having sex
with station wagons and bugs; mule and man
pontificating on reality.
These don’t sit well with rigid realists.

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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