The Great(ness) Game

 

The flow of words

            Ephemera

Transcendence

            For posterity poses not

 

Demos’ art

            Founded by illiterates

Saved by outcasts

            Staffed by misfits

 

Grab a discarded envelope

            Borrow, steal a pen

You are as well equipped

            As an MFA

As elite

            As an editor of Poetry Magazine

 

Look not

            In the Rearview

Only The Reaper

            Lies behind

Poetry, the fiery eyes

            The heavy pedal foot

Greatness

            The wreck left behind.

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