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Arse Poetica

Fair poetess, I must confess,

     I plucked this poesy just for you!

          A couplet we could someday be,

               so might I stop and say Haiku?



I know you've just metonymy,

     so pardon this impertinence –

          but I can sense synonymy,

               and you've got one fine assonance.


I canto help my lyric gropes,

     iamb your slave, it's no conceit.

          You've tied me with your nylon tropes,

               and sin has taxed my heart to beat.


It's no allusion – yes, it's real –

     my diction's got a lot to give . . .

          May I enjamb my metric foot

               into your split infinitive?

Emily Dickinson's Typewriter

Pity the shift key,

hyphen, exclamation point...

all three, shot to shit.

Poetry Workshop Translation for Dummies

“You've really hit your stride with this one!”

It's about time you wrote something decent . . .


“Your own personal style resonates throughout this piece.”

Can't you write anything different?!


“I really appreciate the brevity of this poem.”

It took you five minutes to make this.


“The language is amazing . . .”

. . . considering your limited vocabulary!


“Your symbolism is perhaps a bit too direct.”

We're not idiots, you know.


“I love all the highly detailed, flowing descriptions in your imagery.”

You're worse than Proust! SHUT UP, already!


“Your style is highly reminiscent of . . . ”



“The language is very direct and accessible.”

It reads like it was written by a fifth-grader.


“What a great concept for a poem. Wow.”

FUCK!! Why didn't I think of that?


“The surrealism of this piece is astounding!”

You were high when you wrote this, huh? It's OK, you can tell me . . .


“Thanks for your feedback, everyone. I really appreciate all the suggestions.”

I hate you all.

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